Queen of Darkness
by Aeliar
Summary: Angel and Co. summon a creature from another dimension to battle the greatest threat the world has ever faced, Willow. Chapter 8 up.
1. Prologue: Willows

Title: Queen of Darkness

Setting: One year after Season 6, assumes cannon up until 'Wrecked', at which point it takes off into crazyness.

Warnings: I'll probably slip a Willow/Willow sex scene in here somewhere. I just kind of like that idea. Don't count on it, though. Everything else is for language

Feedback: Oh so welcome. Please! Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, Angel, or even my own soul, so don't try suing me on this one.

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Queen Of Darkness

Prologue

The abandoned factory was silent, its walls broken and flaking after so many years of disuse and neglect. Many of the people who had once lived in this town had forgotten the very existence of this building. Moonlight slanted in through the holes that had at one point been glassed-in windows, illuminating a floor scattered with debris and other evidence that the place had been used as a squat-house at least once in the last couple months. In one area there was a faint dusting of a strange purple powder that seemed to glow in the silvery light.

The small side door to the factory burst open and six people rushed in, carefully closing and barring the door behind them. They searched around for a few moments before separating into two groups. Each group went to opposite corners of the factory floor and began setting up, drawing symbols on the cold floor, placing strange artifacts about the symbols and lighting candles and incense. They were preparing to cast a spell.

"We're set up over here," said the tall, dark-haired vampire as he stood up. "Fred, Gunn, start the Soul Restoration spell," he called across the factory. "Faith, do what they tell you to do. We don't have a lot of time here people, we have to do this as quickly as possible."

There were nods all around as the two and a half-century old vampire turned to the other two who stood with him. He was Angel, protector of the helpless and the fulfillment of multiple prophecy's from the ancient times. He was a vampire with a soul, on a mission of atonement for his centuries of evil. He had fought the tides of darkness alongside one of the most famous Vampire Slayers of all time, Buffy, and had successfully defeated the nefarious organization of Wolfram and Heart on multiple occasions. What he was about to do was twice as dangerous as anything that had come before, and the possibility of disaster hung about him like a fog.

The two who stood with him were themselves no strangers to battle. Wesley Windham-Pryce was a former Watcher who had been fired from the Watchers Council for his failure to control Buffy. After that humiliation, he had joined Angel when the vampire had started a paranormal investigations agency in Los Angeles, an agency that Wesley now ran. The other was Spike, himself a vampire who had gained some semblance of a conscience when a government-funded Initiative implanted a chip in his brain that prevented him from harming anything human. 

"Are we sure that _she_ won't notice us doing this? She has cast both of these spells before, and would know what they entail," Wesley said, sliding a carefully painted image into place inside the ring of symbols they had drawn.

"If we get it done and get out of here fast enough, she won't have time to hit this place. With the distraction Riley and the rest of the Initiative is making up at the college, she should have her hands full," Angel responded, kneeling once more at the edge of the designs. "We all ready?"

"Just about," Spike said as he settled into place. "Are you sure about this, mate?" He asked. "I mean, I've seen this fight fire with fire business before, and let me tell you, the only thing that came of it was a bunch of crispy-fried people."

"It'll work differently this time, Spike," Angel assured the younger vampire. "Because I know who this girl is, and I know that she will help us."

"Better bloody hope so," Spike said. "Because if you're wrong," he didn't finish the thought, simply shaking his head.

"We all know the risks," Angel said softly. "Now let's get started," He grabbed the small jar of purple powder that was sitting next to him and raised a hand parallel to the ground above the image. "_Erishann k'shala mayan,_" he intoned.

Wesley lifted his hand so that the tips of his fingers were touching Angel's "_Deprecht detanla nu Erishann_," he said.

Angel brought the jar with the powder up next to his hand, and Wesleybrought his other hand up to grasp the jar as well. A blue shimmering light seemed to suffuse the air between them, lighting their faces with it's glow. "The child to the mother," Angel continued.

"The river to the sea."

"Erishann hear my prayer!"

The light pulsed in their faces, wind screaming in circles around them. Visions of another time and another world began flashing before their eyes, a strange parallel world that was as much a human's hell as it was a vampire's paradise. Angel poured the powder from the jar onto the image, being careful that it fell on nothing else, and prayed that his desperate gamble would pay off. There was an intense flash of light, blinding the three of them, and a sudden force knocked them on their backs.

When the light faded, a new form lay on the ground in the middle of the factory floor. It was wearing an extremely tight leather outfit, and its face was obscured by the red hair that had fallen over it. From what they could see of the form's skin, it was almost too pale to be living, which was exactly the point.

"Gunn?" Angel called out once he saw the unconscious person he had just summoned. In response to his call, the other three completed the spell they had been working on. A light suffused a small glasslike ball, and quickly the ball itself seemed to dissipate as if it were smoke. The form on the ground convulsed violently as the soul-restoration spell did its work. Soon the form lay still, unconscious once more.

"Hey," Spike said, smirking to himself. "It worked. Bloody good light show, that. Now we just gotta hope that sleeping beauty here be as much help as you say she's gonna be."

"She'll do it," Angel assured him, moving towards the girl on the floor. "She's our only hope."

* * *

Her eyes opened slowly, as if she was waking from a deep sleep. For a moment she just lay there on the large bed, trying to remember where she was. For a moment there was a kind of shearing within her, a feeling of duality that went deeper than her usual schizophrenia. It passed quickly, leaving in it's wake a sense of unrest, and sadness. She frowned, she wasn't supposed to feel sadness anymore, that was what she had been promised.

"You're awake," a voice said to her left. She turned her head slowly, her recognition of the voice sending chills down her spine. "I wondered how long it would take you."

"Puppy?" She said, a frown on her face. The feeling of sadness was hitting her with a vengeance now, along with a fair helping of guilt. She didn't know how to react to any of this, it was too unfamiliar. She turned away from the dark figure of Angel, staring at the ceiling and feeling the burning pinpricks of tears forming in her eyes. "Where am I?"

"Your in Los Angeles, but this isn't your world," came the reply. His voice was strangely expectant, as if he had wanted something more.

"Spell didn't work, huh," she said, more of a statement than a question. "Why am I in LA?"

"There's a lot to tell you about. How are you feeling?" There was genuine concern in his voice, and she couldn't help but feel as if it was somehow connected to these feelings that she wasn't supposed to be having.

"I feel weird," she said, her frown deepening. "All sad and clenchy inside," she turned back to Angel, pouting. "You make me feel sad, go away."

"Do you remember everything you've done?" he asked her, moving closer. "Do you remember all the people you hurt?" She nodded slowly, tears sliding down her face. "I want you to think about the worst things you have ever done, the absolute worst, and tell me how you feel about them."

She thought for a moment, her mind was moving much slower than usual, and recalled all the worst of her acts. She thought of the way she had tortured Angel mercilessly for weeks on end, burning his skin with holy water, striping away his undead flesh. She thought of the way she had stalked a twelve year-old girl for a month, driving her over the edge of insanity before chaining her to a wall and leaving her there to die of thirst, screaming out at the waking nightmares which had been visited on her. She thought of all the ways she had come up with to relieve the almost-constant boredom of her existence. She thought of every kill which had sustained her through her vampiric existence, and smiled.

Or, at least, she tried to smile. Just as her lips were curving upwards, a wracking sob tore its way through her, then another, and another. Soon she was weeping openly, curled up on the large bed in a dark room somewhere in LA with only one of her worst victims for company. She wanted to stop crying, wanted to take comfort in the memories of the slaughter, as she had so often before, but she couldn't. Something stopped her, something deep inside, in a place that she had long forgotten existed. Her heart hurt, for the first time in a long time, her heart hurt.

As she cried, Angel went to her. He placed an arm on her shoulder, pulling her head to his chest and letting her hold on to him. She didn't understand this, she had hurt him, tortured him mercilessly, and here he was comforting her. It made her weep all the more to realize that this Angel knew nothing of what she had done to him on her world, and was giving comfort to one who would have destroyed him. She shouldn't be doing this, she knew. She was a Demon, and a damn good one at that.

"What did you do to me?" She asked through her sobs.

"The only thing we could think of," he said, hugging her close. "We gave you back your soul."

She pulled back from him, the flow of tears stopped for the moment by the realization of what he had just told her. She had a soul. She was no longer the Demon who had terrorized so many, and killed so many more. She was no longer the Demon, but she now had to suffer for its sins. Her lips trembled as she looked at Angel, trying to form words. In the end, all that came out was "why?"

He shook his head. "It's complicated. I won't explain it all to you now, it's too early. I can say that we need you, and we need you whole."

She felt anger well up within her, it didn't dull the pain any, but it gave her focus. "'Need me whole'?" She snarled. "Do I look whole to you? Do I look like I needed my goddamned soul? Do you think I _wanted_ it?" Her voice grew in volume as she spoke, until she was almost screaming at the male vampire, though he was only inches away. "I didn't want it when I was human, and I most definitely do _not_ want it now!" Angel pulled away, a look of shock on his face. "I begged the Master to free me from it! _Begged! Do you understand!_ What gives you the right to put it back! Just because you have one doesn't mean that you can just go and force souls back into people!"

"I'm sorry, but it had to be done," he protested. She screamed wordlessly at him, and began beating weakly on his chest. Had Angel been a human, her blows would have crushed his ribcage and probably killed him, but Angel was no human, and her strikes were far too weak to hurt him. He grabbed her hands to stop her anyway, and her feeble struggles told him just how weak she really was. She needed to feed, and badly. "Look, I know your upset, but right now there's nothing either of us can do about it. You're going to have to live with it, and that's all there is to it. I'm here for you, though, if you want me to be. I've been where you are, and it's not going to be easy. You have to be strong to get over the pain of what you've done, but you can do it.

"Come with me downstairs, you need something to eat and I want you to meet everyone else," he let go of her wrists, letting her arms fall to her side. She looked at him with an expression that was filled with anger and self-loathing. She understood what had happened to her and knew that she was going to have to do as he said, and accept it. She slid off the bed as Angel walked to the door, noticing that she was still in the same clothes she had worn since that night at the factory she wondered idly if there was anything to change into.

"I hate you Angel, but I'll go with you, for now," she said. The tears had finally stopped falling, and she knew that she would be able to keep them under control for at least a little while. "But I need to know why you brought me here. Why you cursed me like this."

Angel stopped just before he opened the large double doors to the room. "We need you for the one thing that you alone, in all this world, are capable of," he took a heavy breath, or at least he appeared to, being undead he didn't actually draw in any air. "Willow, we need you to kill, well, you."

She stared at him for a long moment before speaking. "How did I know you were going to say something like that?"

* * *

The dream took her in, enfolding her mind in its shadow and meaning. She stared into the face of darkness, and the darkness recoiled. Her conscious mind only had time to smirk before it was thrust into the bizarre series of images that was the nightmare. She had so much power in the world, so much influence. She could level a continent if she wanted to, bring governments to their knees, scour the earth of all things that crawled, walked or flew. Still, she had no power over her own dreams, and it was there that she was haunted.

In the dream she was running, her legs pumping as fast as they could. She was in her old high school, the one she had helped destroy all those years ago. Indeed, she was her younger self, innocent and terrified of the creature that chased her. She ran, and the hallways seemed to go on forever. She could feel the mocking laughter, so very familiar, yet so very different.

She turned a corner, and there were the doors to the library. She skidded to a halt, feeling her pulse quicken at the sight of those portals. She knew what lay beyond, knew that should she enter that place, that she would die. She stepped forward anyway, the dream taking control of her actions and forcing her to re-live the experience that had haunted her for many years.

She reached the doors and pulled them open, peering inside the place which had once been like a second home to her. It was exactly as she remembered, the stacks of books almost completely untouched by the students that had once attended the school. It was well lit and comfortable, and despite the knowledge of what was to come, she relaxed as she stepped fully into the library, taking a few steps towards the backpack that she had left on the counter.

Suddenly there were arms around her, clutching her in a grip that was inhumanly strong, and horribly cold. She could feel the demon that wore her face staring at her neck. Could almost see the happy smile that her dark red lips would form. "Alone at last," a voice too much like her own purred in her ear. "We could have so much fun together," her doppelganger continued, deviating from her memory of the actual event. "But you already know that, don't you? You already know how to have fun, how to feed a lust that goes deeper than any mortal passion," she felt the demon's tongue as it licked her neck, preparing to bite. "I feel your lust. I feel it just as I feel my own. I'm coming, coming for you, so you'd better be prepared."

The demon behind her unexpectedly grabbed her shoulders and spun her about to face it. She stared into the bright green eyes of the thing that wore her face. She could feel the terror rise within her, threatening to choke her right there. The demon smiled at her mischievously. "What d'ya say?" It asked her in sweetly seductive tones as its face began to shift into the true visage of the demon. "Wanna be bad?"

Willow Rosenberg screamed as she sat bolt upright in bed, sweat pouring off her in rivulets. The door to her room burst open seconds later to reveal the Slayer who had been her best friend for nearly seven years, in full protector mode. "What is it, Will?" She asked, searching about for some thing to kill.

"It's alright, Buffy," Willow said, raising her hand to the Slayer. "Just a really bad dream. That's all."

Buffy seemed to accept this answer, but she was still concerned. "Okay, Will. Anything you want to talk about?"

Willow shook her head. "No, not now. It was just some old memories come back to haunt me."

Buffy nodded in understanding. "We all get those, Will. After everything we've been through there's no way we couldn't. Still, if you need to talk, you know your friends are here to help you."

"Gee, thanks Buffy," Willow said. "But I think that I'll just go back to sleep now. It was just a nightmare, really. Nothing to get too excited over," Buffy smiled, and with one final visual sweep of the room, closed the door and went back to her own bed. Willow lay back down, breathing deeply to calm her still-racing heart. She knew that it had been more than just a dream. It had been a warning. _She_ was coming, and with her came death. That was, unless Willow was prepared.

Willow Rosenberg, the Queen of Darkness, the most powerful and evil magic-user the world had ever seen sank back into her pillow, and thought of what she would have to do. She smirked as she thought of the carnage to come, and her smile widened into a grin as she felt the thrill of anticipation. She would face the greatest challenge to her power soon, a challenge that would be made all the more exciting by the identity of her challenger. It was going to be an interesting time indeed.

* * *


	2. Chapter 1: Greetings

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Queen Of Darkness

Chapter One: Greetings

As she walked down the stairs, the vampire that had been Willow Rosenberg stared at the expansive lobby she found herself in. She hadn't expected to find herself in a hotel, much less one wholly owned by a vampire famous even in her world for his solitary, brooding nature. She choked back a sob at the thought of her world, and decided that she would focus on finding out everything she could about where she was now, and not think about where she had come from.

"Hey, guys," Angel said as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Simultaneously, six heads looked up from various books and focused on the two vampires coming down to them.

Wesley pulled himself out of his chair, moving towards Angel. "Did we do it? Did it work?" He asked, glancing cautiously at Willow's leather-clad form.

"I remember you," Willow said, sliding her way down the stairs to come up beside Angel. She frowned at the ex-watcher in confusion. "You stopped me from eating Cordelia," she noticed how several of the others in the room reacted to her statement. She saw anger from Wesley one, confusion from the mousy brunette girl, and open hostility from the shaven-headed dark skinned one. She decided to file those reactions away in her memory, and continued speaking. "You threatened me with a cross and holy water," her eyes narrowed. "I don't like you," she hissed, but her scowl suddenly changed back to a look of confusion. "I think. I'm not sure anymore."

There was a moment of absolute silence before Angel spoke in a tone that completely ignored what was just said. "Yeah, it worked. She's got a soul, but there's a few complications. I'm going to have to talk to you about that later, right now she needs to get introduced to everyone and have something to eat."

"Yeah," Willow interjected. "Hungry now," she eyed the mousy brunette for a moment before turning to Angel. "Problem," she stated urgently.

"What?" He asked her.

"Can't eat. Instant guilt trip."

"It's okay," he said, leading her over to the small fridge that sat behind the lobby desk in what had once been the staff area. "It's not fresh, and it's not human, but it'll keep you going," he opened the fridge and pulled out a glass bottle. After pulling a cup out of a nearby cupboard he poured some of the cold red liquid out and handed it to Willow. "Your not going to like it, but it's all you're going to be able to drink."

Willow sniffed at the drink. Tentatively, she stuck out her tongue and dipped it in the liquid. Immediately she pulled her tongue back in and pulled the glass away from her lips. Making a disgusted face she looked incredulously at Angel. "You can't expect me to drink _this_! It's vile! It's . . . It's . . ."

"It's all you're going to get," Angel said.

Willow scowled at him. "I _really_ hate you," she said before downing the entire glass.

"There, that wasn't so bad, now was it?" Angel asked with a small smile, Willow couldn't respond because she was gagging badly. Angel took the glass from her hand before she smashed it on something and refilled it before resealing the bottle and putting it back in the fridge. "Now, why don't we just introduce you to everyone else, and we can let you get settled in," he said as he began to lead her back towards the group of people in the lobby, none of whom had ceased staring at the red-haired vampire. 

"Hate you," Willow hissed again as she regained control of her gag reflex. She meekly allowed herself to be pulled along with the older vampire. The truth was that she wanted to meet the people who were now staring at her. She saw recognition on all of their faces, but could only remember having ever met the British one.

"Alright," Angel began. "Everyone, this is Willow, as a vampire."

"Hi," Willow said, casually waving at them. Angel began to introduce her to everyone gathered. There was Fred, the mousy brunette; Gunn, the black guy; Riley, who was looking at her with something approaching disbelief; Wesley, the Brit who she recognized; Faith, who for some reason made Willow nervous; and finally, Spike. At this last one, Willow spoke out. "Spike? As in William the Bloody?" The bleach-blonde vampire nodded. "They got you too, huh," she said glumly.

"You could say that Red," Spike answered, eyeing her carefully.

There was an uncomfortably long silence. Willow was beginning to get fidgety, and that was never a good sign. She decided to find something to occupy her mind, lest her thoughts drift to things that she really didn't want to dwell on right then. "Bored now," she said, and forced a smile on her face. "Hey! Watcha' all doin'?"

The tension in the room suddenly dropped a notch, several of the people letting out a relieved breath. Willow didn't really understand this reaction, but she decided to go along with it anyway, smiling more widely. "Wesley, I need to talk to you and Spike in private. Can the rest of you bring Vamp Willow up to speed on what's going on?"

There were nods all around, and Willow slid herself into the seat that Spike vacated as he made his way to Wesley's office. She smiled at everyone, but kept glancing at Faith. Something about the dark haired girl bothered her, something undeniably familiar, and yet horribly alien. She felt both attracted and repelled by her, and that was frustrating the vampire. She could sense the anger in the girl, boiling just below the surface, could feel the darkness that swirled in her soul, causing a disconcertingly sympathetic echo within Willow's own dark heart. She forced herself to focus on everyone but Faith, and in her very best happy-Willow voice she said: "So, what's been happening?"

* * *

"Wes, we might have a problem," Angel said as soon as the door to the office was closed.

"Bloody right we've got a problem," Spike said. "The new Red's off her bloody rocker!"

Wesley looked shocked. "What are you talking about? She seemed lucid enough."

"Yeah, she seems sane now, but just wait 'till she starts talking about burning fishes swimming 'round your head. I bet you'll get the picture bloody fast then!" Spike said restlessly moving about the room.

"Angel?" Wesley said, asking for his opinion.

"Spike's right," Angel said. "She has her soul back, but her mind's unstable. She still thinks like she doesn't have a soul to worry about, and she's trying to repress the guilt it's sending her. She's not showing it, but Spike and I can tell what's going on under the surface, and I wouldn't be surprised if Faith was catching a bit of it as well."

"It goes a lot deeper than just guilt repression, peaches," Spike said. "I've seen that look in her eyes before. It's the same look Dru would get before she went off into one of her fantasies. This girl is seriously disturbed, people! Trust me, I only lived with someone like her for a hundred sodding years!"

Wesley contemplated for a few moments. "Exactly what are you sensing about her that makes you think she's not stable?"

"It's really hard to put into terms a human would understand, Wes," Angel said. "It's like we're seeing more than one Willow when we look at her. I can sense the guilt that her soul is sending, but somewhere along the way it's getting distorted. Almost like it has to pass through a barrier before it gets to her conscious mind."

"Could it be her Demon that's causing the interference, the version of the soul-restoration spell we used was not too clear on which would be dominant in the end."

"No," Angel said. "Her soul's in control like mine is, but there's something hanging on to her, and I'm not talking about her Demon. It might be something that was in her mind, but I can't tell what's really happening, so I have to go on my gut feeling."

"If what you are saying is true, then we could indeed have a problem. If you are right, is there any way we could help her? Make her more stable?"

"Humoring her's about the best I ever came up with for Dru," Spike said. "But I don't think that's gonna work in this case."

"Look, I have an idea of how to handle this, but it's not going to be easy," Angel said.

"Alright," Wesley began. "I'm prepared to accept that the vampire Willow is unstable, more than prepared actually. But Cordelia's vision was quite explicit. The Willow she saw there was lucid and in control of her mental faculties. That means that we have to find a way to counsel her, to give her grounding before we begin our assault. Spike, I don't think humoring her would be a good idea, in fact I believe that doing so would just encourage her to lose touch with reality. Angel you said you have a plan, explain it please."

Angel waited for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "We don't really know how deep this goes yet, so we're going to have to watch her for a while before we do anything. From what I've seen and heard from her, which isn't a lot, I think she might be going through some sort of post-traumatic stress period. Something happened to her before she was turned, something really bad. It affected how she acted as a vampire, and it's continuing to affect her now that she's got a soul. Up in my room, she told me that she begged the Master to turn her. Now I don't know everything, but I've only heard of people begging to be turned a few times, ever. And each time the person doing the begging was in a really bad place, emotionally."

"Okay, if we could get to the part of this where you actually tell us what you think we should do, than we could maybe start to do something about little miss time bomb out there!" Spike snapped.

"Calm down, Spike," Wesley chided. "Angel, please continue."

"As I've said, I don't really know exactly what's wrong with her," Angel continued. "But if it gets serious, then we may be looking at a worst-case scenario. For now she's working on the premise that her soul prevents her from feeding on people entirely. I don't know how long it might take her to simply stop caring, but we should assume that we don't have a lot of time. We have to know what's going on with her, and we have to know as soon as possible. You know what that means," he said, and Wesley nodded thoughtfully.

"What?" Spike asked, confused. "What does that mean? What are you two talking about?"

"I'll call 'Lorne," Wesley said, moving behind his desk.

"'Lorne!" Spike nearly shouted. "Oh, please don't say I have to sing again!"

* * *

"So this is what year again?" Willow asked, still coming to grips with what she had been told.

"2003," Fred answered, she had been the first to begin speaking with Willow. She spoke far too fast for the vampire, confusing the issue with long dissertations explaining the most insignificant of things. "The spell we used to bring you back to our world grabbed you from the closest time period to this one that you existed in. That is, it tried to just move you between universes without having to bring you through time, but if you didn't exist in your universe at the time the spell was cast, it would search backwards through time until it did find you, and then transport you here. So, um, if we hadn't of brought you here, you'd probably be a pile of ashes for the last four years."

"Uh, thanks," Willow said slowly, wondering whether she was better off or not. "Hey, what happened to Xander?" She asked.

"Oh, he got engaged," Riley said.

"To who?" Willow asked, frowning as she tried to think of whom the human Xander she had encountered before would be most suited to.

"A girl named Anya, if I remember the story right you met her last time you were in our world."

Willow did indeed remember. "Anya!" She cried in disbelief, face shifting into demon mode. "The vengeance demon? The girl who first brought me to this hell-dimension? That Anya?"

Everyone shrank back, that is, everyone except Faith. Willow was finding herself more and more intrigued by the dark girl, and couldn't help sneaking another long look at her. "Yes?" Fred said finally, her answer as much a question as it was a statement. Willow could feel the fear coming off of her, this was a person who was used to terror, but had never gotten over it.

Willow sank back into her chair, allowing her face to slip back into its human mask. "Figures," she said calmly. "He always did have the worst taste in women."

"But, in the alternate universe, didn't he end up with you?" Riley asked, Willow smirked at him. "Oh," he said as he caught on to what she was trying to tell him.

"Are we sure she has a soul?" Gunn cut in. "'Cause, I mean, she's not acting all broody or anything. Isn't that how vamps with souls are supposed to act?"

"Oh, I've got a soul," Willow assured him. "But that doesn't mean I have to brood my way through eternity. I was nowhere near as nasty as Angelus was, and I haven't lived anywhere near as long as him, so I have a lot less guilt to deal with. Plus, why should I be guilty at all? I mean, hello, vampire here. I'm supposed to be evil. I was just doing what came naturally, and so was he. If puppy wants to act all ashamed of who he is, he can go ahead, but I for one am not going to beat myself up about what's passed," she looked at everyone's faces, gauging their reaction to her words. There was concern stamped on their features, she had them worried. Again though, Faith kept completely neutral, Willow wondered how long it would take for the girl to explode at her. "That doesn't mean I'm gonna bite you or anything," she said, letting off the pressure. "It just means that I'm not going to go the way of tall, dark and broody."

"I don't know whether to be relieved, or very, very worried," Riley quipped.

"I second that," Gunn agreed.

"Anyway, continue with what we were talking about. What happened to the Slayer? I was good friends with her, wasn't I?" Willow caught a pained look from both Faith and Riley. Something had happened to both of them, something involving the Slayer. 

"Well," Fred began. "I don't know too much about this, but I do know that you, er, the other you went to college with Buffy, after blowing up your high school, that is. Then, about two years ago, Buffy died saving the world, uh, again."

"Oh?" Willow said, cocking one eyebrow. "So she's finally bit the big one? I don't really know how to feel about that. I guess I'm just overwhelmed by the blowing up of the high school which you conveniently skimmed over."

"Well, actually, Buffy isn't dead anymore," Fred continued, Willow's other eyebrow went up to join it's companion. "From what Spike told us, you kinda brought her back."

"_I_ brought her back. Now _that_ is interesting," Willow said softly. "So, in this world I become some sort of witch?"

"Yeah," Faith said, speaking for the first time since Willow had laid eyes on her. "You go real overboard with it too. Set yourself up with a nice lesbian lover who also happens to be a witch, gain a whole hell of a lot of power, you know, witchy stuff. You even took on a God, and nearly won. But you see, even that wasn't enough for you, so you do more and more with magic, trying to build up your power and stamina. Then you start systematically alienating all of your friends by your overuse of your power. Pretty soon all your left with is yourself. That's when you begin to get nasty."

Willow stood up suddenly, silencing Faith. Slowly the vampire walked over to the girl, her movements far too fluid for any human being. As she approached, Faith stood up, a challenging spark shining in her eyes. Willow stopped just inches from the other girl's face, she could feel Faith's breath, hot and full of energy. "I can smell your anger," Willow whispered. "I don't know what happened to you, or even what you are, but I understand the rage that is boiling inside you," she saw Faith's eyes widen, she was hitting a mark, though what would come of it was impossible to determine. "You don't hate me, though. You want to pound a stake through my heart so much that it makes your fingers itch, to kick my ass across the town and use my teeth to open your beer. But you don't hate me. No, you may want to do all these things to me, but in the end you are the one you want to hurt."

"Shut up," Faith breathed, the words barely audible to even Willow's vampiric hearing. Willow thought about doing what she asked, but whatever it was that had pulled Willow to her in the first place was now forcing her to go on.

"I haven't been alive all that long, especially not for a vampire, but in my time I have seen people like you, Faith. Psychology was an interest of mine long before I was turned, and as a vampire I was afforded a great opportunity to study different personalities, to see what made people like they were. Sure I did it through torture and terror, but I got results, and I learned a lot about how a person's mind works. I can tell a personality type from a few minutes of watching someone just sit there, but I only needed to look at you once to know what was going on in that pretty head of yours."

"Shut up," Faith said, louder this time. The others heard her, Willow knew, but not one of them made a move to interrupt the conversation.

"You broadcast it to everyone that comes near you, throwing it out at the world like you're expecting it to be taken away. Then you try to cover it up with a devil-may-care attitude, as if you can deny that the heart on your sleeve is yours. You don't even fool yourself, and it eats you up inside."

"Shut up!" Faith snapped. Willow spotted the three men beginning to rise from their seats about the lobby, and could tell that Fred was beginning to edge away.

"I met you ten minutes ago, Faith, and already I know you better than you know yourself. You're stubborn, willful, and you think that you're alone in the world. Well, guess what! You are! You are all alone, Faith, and not because people don't want to be with you, not because of some world conspiracy against you. No, you're alone because you won't let yourself get close to anyone, and the bitch of it is that you don't even know you're doing it," Faith was shaking with rage now, but she never blinked, her gaze locked with the vampire's. "You don't hate me, Faith. Do you want to know why?"

"Shut up!" Faith screamed. With speed that no human should have possessed, Faith reached into the jacket she was wearing and brought out a long wooden stake. Willow watched intently as Faith raised the stake above and behind her head, readying it to strike to Willow's heart. The vampire made no move to stop her, didn't even flinch though the rage danced in Faith's eyes.

"Faith!" A voice called out commandingly. The rogue Slayer whipped her head around to look at Angel, who was standing just outside the door to Wesley's office, and didn't look happy. "Put the stake down."

"Damn it, Angel!" Faith snarled. "You knew she was going to get to me like this, didn't you?" She looked back at Willow, whose gaze had not deviated, tossing the stake to the side as she once again locked eyes with the vampire. "You're lucky this time, bitch. Word to the wise, though, it isn't smart to piss off a Slayer, especially if you happen to be a vampire."

Willow stared deeply into Faith's eyes, and her darkly sensuous lips pulled into a smirk. "You don't hate me, Faith," she whispered, drawing herself even closer to the Slayer, so that they were almost touching. "Because you're too busy hating yourself."

Faith held the vampire's gaze for only a moment longer before shoving past Willow and storming out of the hotel without saying another word. Willow looked after her, the smirk still on her face, and wondered if it had just been the fact that Faith was a Slayer that had been having the odd effect on her. After remembering her encounters with the other Slayer, Buffy Summers, Willow decided that it was something unique to the girl herself, something that she might want to explore later. For now, though, Angel wanted her for something, and she had a feeling that it might be important.


	3. Chapter 2: Incident at Caritas

****

Queen Of Darkness

Chapter Two: Incident at Caritas

"Caritas, what a name," Willow commented as she and Angel stepped through the heavy security doors into the demonic kareoke bar. "What's with the heavy security?" She asked, noting the many safety measures they had to pass through before entering the bar.

"There were a few troubles about a year ago, somebody tossed a can of gasoline and a grenade in here, the owner doesn't really want a repeat of that incident," Angel said.

"Really? Why did they do that?"

A shadow passed across the older vampire's face, or rather a deeper shadow. "I'd really rather not talk about it right now," he said , obviously trying to keep his voice under control. Willow shrugged and dropped it, making her way to the bar.

Half-sitting on one of the stools and leaning up against the bar was perhaps the worst dressed demon that Willow had ever seen. She nearly gawked at his flashy suit and far-too shiny shoes. She supposed that by most people's measure he would be described as snappy, but Willow was a dedicated vinyl, leather and lace girl. He turned to her, giving her a big grin that showcased his brilliantly white teeth and red lips. "Well, well, well," he said, his voice far too happy for it to be completely real. He was hiding something, some unhappiness that was eating at his outward cheeriness. "So this is the one you guys went to so much trouble to get. I gotta say, Angel, not exactly what I was expecting."

Willow stepped up to him, narrowing her eyes as she studied him. Angel strode up behind her and began to speak with the demon. "Kinda hard to expect anything about her, 'Lorne," he said. "And that's why we're here."

"You want me to take a look," 'Lorne said. "See what's going on with her, and what her aura shows about her path," Willow began to stare at the small reddish horns protruding from his head, she wondered if they were soft and spongy, or hard and brittle.

"That's about it, actually. So, will you help?"

"I don't know. Angel, the last several times you needed my help it ended up in a lot of personal danger on my part, and at least two blowings-up of my club," Willow raised her right hand and poked at 'Lorne's left horn. He blinked at her for a moment. "Could you please not do that?" He asked, apparently more than a little disturbed though the smile never wavered. "Not only is it inexcusably rude to _poke_ at a demon's horns without his permission, I also just got them manicured, and would really not like to have it ruined so soon."

"Uh, sorry," Willow said slowly. She turned to Angel. "Bored now, what are we going to do here?"

"You, my little vampire, are going to go up there on that stage, select yourself a song, and let rip with the best of your singing ability," 'Lorne said. Willow's eyes suddenly went wide, and her already pale face seemed to lighten a few shades.

"So you'll help us then?" Angel asked.

"Sure, Angel, have I ever really turned you down before?"

"Sing? Me?" Willow squeaked.

"Thanks 'Lorne. You have no idea how much it might help," Angel continued, ignoring Willow's distress.

"I think I'm going to find out," 'Lorne said. "Wesley sounded pretty concerned over the phone. Do you have any idea what the problem might be?"

"Yeah, but I think you should see for yourself before I tell you what I think, just in case I'm way off base," Angel said.

"Angel," Willow said, turning towards the older vampire with a look of panic on her face. "Problem, big, big problem!"

"What is it, Willow?" He asked.

"I have this thing about public performances," she said. "As in I can't. Perform in public, that is. I get all nervous, and then I get all spazy, and then I get all nauseous, and the rest isn't pretty. I don't think 'Lorne here'll really take well to half-digested blood spilled all over his nice shiny floor, so I think I'll take this one off, okay?"

"Come on, Willow," Angel said, trying his best to be reassuring. "You were a sadistic killer, you stalked the night, struck fear into all that saw you. A little singing can't be all that bad."

"There's where you're wrong mister!" She exclaimed. "Stalking the night is nothing like singing in front of a crowd! Now, if I were torturing someone to death onstage that might be different, but only if I couldn't see the people, or was onstage. Actually, no. It wouldn't be very different. It would just be a whole lot ickier. The point is, I can't do it. Nope, no way on this earth or my own that you can get me up on that stage," she said emphatically, shaking her head to indicate that her point was final.

"Come on, dear," 'Lorne said. "I bet you have a lovely singing voice. Here, I'll even pick the song for you and introduce you to the crowd. You'll love it once you get going, trust me."

"Did you not see the shaking of my head?" Willow said, and was horrified to find that both the demon Host and Angel had begun to herd her towards the stage. Her terror of what lay ahead had sapped all strength from her, she was completely at her mercy. "No, no, no, no, no. I don't like this at all."

"It's okay, Willow," Angel put in, still using his 'reassuring' voice. "You can make it through one song, I'm sure of it."

"Eep!" Was all that she could get out as the dreaded microphone and spotlight loomed closer. In short order, they hauled the nearly catatonic Willow onto the stool that was on the stage, setting her so that she faced the crowd of humans, demons and vampires that turned their attention to her, eagerly awaiting what she would do.

"Hey folks," 'Lorne began amiably as he put the mic to his lips. "Tonight we have a real treat, a first timer to the bar, and to kareoke in general. She's real nervous, so let's give a warm Caritas welcome to Willow the vampire!" With that he handed the microphone to Willow, who help it limply as the applause from the patrons of the bar swept over her. She knew that it was meant to be comforting, to ease her nerves, but it only made the butterfly's in her stomach triple in population and become real mean.

"Just give it your best," Angel said, leaning next to her as he picked out a song for her. "Just follow the words on the screen and you'll be fine."

Willow stared at what he had selected. "George Michael?" She managed to whisper. "You couldn't just stake me now?"

"It's really very short," Angel said, still trying to be reassuring. "And full of energy, it should help you get through it faster. Don't worry, Willow," he said again. With a final pat on her shoulder, he hopped down from the stage, and left Willow at the mercy of the crowd. She reasoned that, this being a kareoke bar and all, the patrons would be used to bad singing. It did nothing to calm her.

The timer started ticking down, far too quickly for her. She tried to breath, seeing if the act of filling her lungs with air would help, too late she remembered that he lungs didn't actually fill with air, and managed to suck in a whole lot of nothing. This only further reminded her of the outfit she had yet to change out of, and it's own particular properties, specifically how tight it actually was. Events were moving a great deal too fast for her, she could feel the familiar dizziness coming on that signaled the beginning of the downward spiral of her forays into public performances. She was doomed.

The counter hit zero. The words began to appear on the screen. She opened her mouth, knowing that a frightened squeak was all that was destined to emerge. She was caught completely off guard when she actually started to sing.

"Well, I guess it would be nice, if I could touch your body, I know not everybody, has got a body like you. But I gotta think twice, before I give my heart away, and I know all the games you play, because I play them too," she couldn't believe it. She was actually singing! "Oh but I need some time off from that emotion, time to pick my heart up off the floor. Oh when that love comes down, without devotion, well it takes a strong man baby, but I'm showing you the door. 'Cause I gotta have faith . . ."

She had never felt so scared in her entire undead life. The Master himself had been the only thing that had terrified her as much as this, and even then it had been a different kind of terror. This was visceral, this was horribly solid fear. It was something that she felt in the core of her being, something that made her wonder if she was in hell. If that white hat had actually dusted her back in the factory in her own world, and she was in hell, living out her worst nightmare. And still the words kept pouring from her mouth, each in perfect pitch and full of energy.

"Baby! I know you're asking me to stay, saying please, please, please don't go away, you say I'm giving you the blues. Maybe, you mean every word you say, can't help but think of yesterday, and another who tied me down to lover-boy rules. Before this river becomes and ocean, before you throw my heart back on the floor. Oh baby I reconsider my foolish notion, well I need someone to hold me, but I'll wait for something more. Yes I've gotta have faith!"

As the song ended after the repeat of the chorus, Willow smiled and stood for the crowd. There were cheers all through the house at her perfect performance. She had done it, she had made it through, and had shined. She laughed, thanked everyone for listening, and then did the only thing she could think of doing. She fainted.

* * *

Just after giving his last reassuring comment to Willow, Angel made his way back to the bar where 'Lorne was waiting for him. He hopped onto the stool next to the demon Host, and turned so he could lean on the bar and watch Willow while talking to 'Lorne at the same time.

"How's Cordy," the Host said, beginning the conversation, referring to the vision-plagued girl that served as Angel's link to the Powers-That-Be.

"She's recovering in the hospital," he said. "With the interference that the Willow of this universe is causing with all transmissions from the Powers, they have to send the visions in pretty damn hard for her to actually get them. The last one was a big one too. She barely had enough time to tell me what I had to do before slipping into a coma."

"I heard about that," 'Lorne said sympathetically. "When do they think she'll come out of it?"

"The doctors say it's temporary, but she could be in it for anywhere from a few more hours to another six months."

"Way too bad," 'Lorne said sadly, he liked the fiery Cordelia Chase, a bitch queen extraordinair, and a true champion of the Powers. He perked up as he heard the opening guitar riff of the song Angel had chosen. Then Willow began to sing, and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. He slammed himself backwards into the bar, gripping its edge so hard that his normally green knuckles turned white. Angel snapped into high alert mode immediately, but he was completely at a loss as to how to handle this.

"'Lorne!" He said loudly, but the Host couldn't hear him. 'Lorne suddenly started shaking, his entire body vibrating as if he were shivering from extreme cold. Just as Willow reached the first chorus, 'Lorne began to convulse, his muscles snapping his body back and forth in violent seizure. Through it all, his eyes never lift Willow, never breaking the contact that her singing had forged between her aura and his mind. "Somebody help me here!" Angel cried out, and was astonished when he found that no one was listening to him. A quick survey of the bar showed him that everyone in there, human, demon or otherwise, was focused to the exclusion of everything else, on Willow.

Angel spotted several other demons who he knew had some form of aura or spirit reading abilities, and every one of them were in the same state as 'Lorne. It was Willow, it had to be. Exactly what she was doing, and how she was doing it were secondary considerations in the vampire's mind. His first concern was to keep 'Lorne alive, and with the way he was wrenching himself so violently, that might become a problem. Acting on impulse, Angel thrust his palm over the Host's eyes. Instantly the contact was broken, and 'Lorne let out a keening wail, falling to the floor and curling up in a tight fetal position.

Angel threw his coat over 'Lorne's head to make sure that the contact remained broken, and sprinted towards the other convulsing demons he had seen. Each of them read aura's in a different way, and so it wasn't easy for him to find a way to break contact, but he found that throwing a handy coat or, in some cases, cloak over them did the job nicely. As he did this he noticed that none of the patrons of Caritas had escaped the effect except him. They were all staring dumbly at Willow as she wholeheartedly belted out George Michael, oblivious to what was going on in front of her. 

He couldn't understand what was happening, but he could guess that there was a lot more going on with the vampire Willow than even Spike had guessed. Angel knew that there was nothing else that he could do, and Willow was coming to the end of the song anyway, so he decided to wait and see what would happen. The song ended, and the crowd began to cheer, something that Angel had only seen on extremely rare occasions in the demon bar. Willow stood up from her seat, still paler than even the undead should be, and smiled at the adulation she was receiving. Then she collapsed, crumpling into a neat heap next to the stool she had sat on, the microphone rolling out of her nerveless fingers.

In a flash Angel was at her side, cradling her as he pulled her from the floor and began heading towards the back room where 'Lorne made his home. He opened the door, thankful that it hadn't been locked, and laid the unconscious vampire on the bed before racing back out into the main floor of the club. What he found when he got out there was chaos. The people who had been spellbound by the vampire's song had awoken from their trance to find that several of their number were little more than whimpering knots of pain on the floor. Angel picked up 'Lorne, much in the same way he had picked Willow up, and brought him into the Host's room as well, placing him next to Willow and pulling the coat off of him.

"'Lorne!" He called, leaning over the Host's face. "'Lorne, can you hear me?"

"I hear you, man," the demon said as his eyes opened slowly. "I'd say your breath stinks to, if you had any, that is."

Angel took the hint and backed off, letting 'Lorne sit up and clutch at his head. "What happened?"

"I might have to ask you the same thing," the Hosts responded, obviously still recovering from what he had seen. "I have no idea why I'm hurting so much now. I understand the headache, of course, but why the rest of me feels like I just went ten rounds with a Fyarl demon I have no idea."

"That was the convulsions," Angel said offhandedly. "What did you see? What did her aura tell you?"

"Oh, more than I bargained for, Angel," 'Lorne began, gingerly rubbing his temples. "She's not alone in there. There's more than one being inhabiting her body, and I'm not talking about her soul and demon. There's two distinct souls in there, as well as the demon, and . . . something else," he seemed to go distant as he said the last, his eyes staring off into nothing. "There's something in her that I've never seen before, something big, really, really big. Every one of those entities is powerful, but, my god whatever that other thing is, it's more than any power I've ever encountered."

"A true demon? A god? What?" Angel asked, trying to understand what 'Lorne was alluding to.

The Host shook his head. "No, nothing so simple as that. We're talking power the likes of which this universe has never seen. Or if it has, it was a long, long time ago. As in before even Demons inhabited this, or any other world. I'm just thankful that whatever it is, is dormant."

"Dormant?"

"Yeah, it's not an active part of her, yet."

"What is active?"

"So far? Both souls and the demon. It seems that they're in a power struggle over who gets to control the body and the mind, so she's probably going to have some personality difficulties. I can't stress enough, though, that this fourth being, this Other, has more power than anything should ever have. I don't think even the combined might of the Powers-That-Be could stand up to it."

Angel survived on not being shocked by much, but this declaration gave him pause. "Stronger than the Powers? But how?"

'Lorne shook his head. "Don't ask me, Angel, I'm just telling you what I saw."

Angel assimilated this for a moment before speaking again. "Do you have any idea why she was mesmerizing people out there? I kept trying to get their attention, but they were fixated on her."

"Oh, _that_!" 'Lorne said, as if it were nothing. "That was just a spell. A kind of 'look at me!' deal that captures the attention of all who are susceptible. Very rudimentary in its construction, but she's got a great deal of power for such a small girl. Probably what stopped me from closing my eyes and getting away from looking at that _thing_," he shuddered at the memory. "Where is she, anyway?"

"Right behind you," Angel said, and immediately 'Lorne was off the bed and across the room. "What? What is it?" Angel asked, concerned.

'Lorne was staring in horror at the sleeping vampire as he pressed himself against the wall. "I, uh, I'll just stay over here as long as she's over there, okay?"

Angel nodded, noting the fear in the Host's eyes. Whatever he had seen in her aura, that mysterious 'Other', it had frightened him to the core. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the hotel. Once Wesley picked up he told him what had happened at the bar only minutes ago. The head of Angel Investigations was worried, and rightly so.

"You must get her back here as quickly as possible," he told Angel. "If she is carrying some sort of passenger, then we might have to change the plan. I'll see if I can find something in our research material that can help us in identifying what is going on."

"Good idea, Wes. There's something else. See if you can get hold of Giles."

"Giles? But he's off trying to find Oz, we don't even know in what part of the world he's in."

"If we get lucky, he'll be somewhere with cell-phone service. We need him, Wes."

"Alright, I'll try."

"Has Faith come back yet?"

"Yes, she and Spike are having a sparring match in the basement as we speak."

"Make sure she doesn't kill him, okay? As much as I hate to admit it, we need him right now."

"I know. When will you get here?"

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"See you then," Wesley said, and the line went dead. 

Angel folded up the phone and put it back into his coat pocket. He looked over at the peacefully sleeping face of the vampire Willow. "Was it a mistake to bring you here?" He asked himself quietly. "Did I misinterpret what the Powers were trying to tell me?" He gathered her up in his arms once more and headed for the door. "What am I going to do with you?"

'Lorne watched them leave from his position at the wall. Only after Angel had closed the door behind him did he speak. "You should have warned me about her," he said to the air.

'_I did not know_,' a calm, female voice whispered into his brain. '_I did not foresee this Other that came with her. Are you sure that it is dormant?_'

"Yes, my Queen," 'Lorne answered.

'_And, what of the two souls you saw within her, what of them that you held back from Angel?_'

"One was hers, and the other was yours," he said. "The same, yet different. I have told you all I know, my Queen! Please! Let her go now. She can do no more harm to you!"

'_You have done as I asked, Krevlorneswoth of the Deathwok clan. And for that I will release the girl. But I gotta say, I really don't like her._'

"That was our deal!" The Host nearly shouted. "I let you in on what I find for Angel, and you leave the girl alone!"

The voice in his mind laughed, a pleasant, mirthful sound that totally belied the evil it was capable of. '_I have already told you that she will be released. But that doesn't mean your obligation to me is ended. No, you have just begun in your service to me. Remember, I can strike her down anywhere and anytime. Because of that, you belong to me!'_ The voice faded through the last sentence, finally fading from his mind.

'Lorne sank to the floor, holding his aching head in his hands, tears leaking from his closed eyes. "Oh, Cordelia, I'm so sorry!" He cried. "What have I done? What have I done?"


	4. Chapter 3: Filler

****

Queen Of Darkness

Chapter Three: Filler

Wesley set the phone back in it's cradle, muttering curses under his breath. Giles had been impossible to contact, just as he had warned Angel. The former Watcher could only hope that his one-time colleague had found Oz, and was in the process of bringing him to LA. If there was any hope of resolving the conflict without having to kill this world's Willow, Oz was it.

"Hey, Wes," came the call from the basement stair. He turned to find a sweaty Faith and banged-up Spike emerge from their sparring session. "Why'd you cut us off so early, I was _this_ close to being able to see the redhead again without kicking her ass," she held her thumb and index fingers about an inch apart to illustrate her point.

"No complaints here, mate," Spike said as he rubbed a sore shoulder.

"Angel called from Caritas," Wesley began. "The Host found something in Willow, something which is very, very powerful. Needless to say no one has any idea of what it is, and we all know what that means."

The vampire and Slayer rolled their eyes in identical gestures of annoyance. "Another all night research fest. Great," Spike moaned. "You do remember how bad I am at that stuff, right?"

"Quite well, actually," Wesley said. "Which is why neither of you are going to be doing any research."

There was a disbelieving pause as Wesley's words sunk in. "Say what?" Faith asked.

"I need the two of you for other things. Spike, I want you to go to Riley and see if the Initiative can help us with the research we need to do. Afterwards you may do as you wish, but we will need you back here by tomorrow night. Faith, I need you to gather some components for a spell. I will compile a list of the materials for you, a few of them will be rather difficult to get a hold of, but I am sure you can do it," Faith shrugged, anything that meant action was fine with her. "Again, I will need them by tomorrow night."

"Aww, how come I got to deal with the soldier boy's?" Spike asked.

"Because you can deal with them better than Faith can," Wesley responded simply. "You may have your problems with the Initiative, and they may have their problems with you, but at lest you can get on civilly with them. Besides, what I need faith to do will probably entail breaking into the homes of several people, something you most definitely _cannot_ do."

"Right," Spike said, defeated. "So I deal with GI Joe then. Ah well, at least I won't be around if Red loses it tonight. What with the cryptically dire way you said 'very' twice, I wonder if this place'll even be here when I get back."

"I don't believe that we will be in any danger, Spike. As to Willow, you will have a chance to find out just how dangerous she is."

"What's that?" Spike asked, confused and worried.

"Tomorrow night you, Faith and Angel will find out how well the vampire Willow can fight, and if necessary, start to train her."

"Whoa!" Faith said. "Slow down there! I've talked to the vamp once, and already she's on my 'to stake' list. Now, I didn't like her to begin with, and her as a vampire pissed me off in record time. Why the hell would I want to _train_ her?"

"You wouldn't," Wesley said patiently. "But I'm not asking you to want to train her. I am telling you to do it."

Faith gave him a stunned look. "Telling me? What makes you think you can 'tell' me to do anything?"

"If you haven't noticed yet, Faith, I am in charge here," Wesley said, ignoring the danger in the rogue Slayer's eyes. "You will do as I tell you, or you can suffer the consequences."

"What are ya gonna do, fire me?" Faith quipped, her astonishment turning to anger.

"Yes, Faith, I will. And when I do, you will have several options at your disposal. You can go back to the police and spend another twenty years in jail, you could submit yourself to the Watcher's Council to be tried for your actions, or you could run. I wouldn't think that any of those sound to appealing to you."

Faith stared hard at her ex-Watcher for a long time, which he bore calmly and firmly. Finally, she looked away. "Fine, I'll teach the bitch how to fight if she needs it," she said. "Get that list done, so I can get on with my slavery. I'll be in the basement."

Wesley watched as the rogue Slayer stormed back down the door she had just emerged from. A challenging glance at Spike made the vampire draw back and throw his hands up in defense. "No problems here," he said quickly. "I'll teach the new Red how to hold 'er own against a Slayer. But you gotta realize that it's not physical fighting that we got to teach the girl. She's got to know how to fend off an attack from herself, if you know what I mean," Wesley nodded, leaning heavily against the lobby's counter. "We've got to teach her magic, and none of us really know enough about the Dark Arts to give her a proper education."

"I know," Wesley said, reaching over the counter into the desk drawer and pulling out a piece of paper and a pen. "That's what this spell I want is for. There are two spells, actually. The first is a spell which can detect the truth of any being, and relay all information about its target to the caster. I hope to use it to find out what this other being in Willow is all about."

"Oh. And what's the second spell all about?"

"The second spell is something I came across a while ago. It's very dangerous, so I am very hesitant to use it, but it could be very useful to us now." 

Spike gave him an impatient look. "All well and nice, but what does it do?"

"It is a summoning spell, something that will bring a spirit-teacher to us who can help Willow to learn magic far more easily and faster than we could hope to do on our own."

"Why don't you hook us all up with that thing?" Spike asked.

"Because it only works with those who already have tremendous potential. A spirit-teacher like the one I want to summon would be insulted by a request to teach any of us, but would see the natural talent that Willow has, and jump at the chance."

"Ah, a mega-witch only deal," Spike said, and began to head towards the door. "Right then, I'm off. I'll get the soldier boy's to start helpin' with your research, and then find me a good pint of blood to curl up with."

"Just remember, be back by tomorrow night," Wesley warned.

Spike made a dismissive gesture as he continued towards the door. Just as he was reaching for the handles, the door was flung open and Angel, carrying a still-unconscious Willow, burst into the hotel. Spike watched as Angel rushed the young vampire to one of the couches that were spaced about the lobby. He opened his mouth to make a sarcastic comment about the entire situation, but thought better of it and stepped out the doors and into the night.

Angel gently lay Willow out on the couch before turning to Wesley. "What have you got?" He asked the former Watcher.

"Not much I'm afraid," Wesley responded, moving over to the couch. "Giles is still unreachable, last word form him came from Brazil. He was going into the rain forest to check on a lead."

"Damn, we're going to have to hope it pays off. Where was Spike headed?"

"I sent him to speak with Riley and the rest of the Initiative. I want them to help with the research."

Angel frowned. "Are you sure? Spike and the Initiative don't exactly get along well."

Wesley nodded. "We are all going to have to work together if we ever hope to win this. Spike must learn to get over his dislike of the Initiative, and we must show that humans and demons can work together to overcome the greater enemy."

Angel looked unconvinced, but decided not to debate Wesley's decision. "Where's Faith?"

"She's in the basement right now, most likely destroying yet another punching-bag."

"What happened this time?"

"She needed a reminder of where she was, and of why I am the boss," Wesley said, taking a long, worried look at the sleeping Willow. "I think she's taking it rather well, all things considered. Angel, I need her to gather some components for a spell tonight, so don't plan anything that involves her."

"I wasn't going to. What spell?"

"An identification spell, to give us as much information as possible on what might have come with Willow, and a summoning spell."

"A summoning spell? For what?" Angel asked.

"A spirit-teacher," Wesley answered, sitting down in a chair that faced the couch and using the small coffee table in front of it to continue writing out his list. 

"Oh," Angel said passively, then the full meaning of what Wesley had said hit him. "A what!"

"Spirit-teacher," Wesley explained calmly. "It teaches magic at a very rapid pace to whomever the summoner wishes."

"I know what it is, Wes. What I want to know is why you're gathering the ingredients to summon it."

"If the this Willow is to have any chance of facing the Willow of our reality, she is going to need to know how to magically defend herself. You yourself stated even before we brought her here that we are going to have to force her to learn a lot very fast. This is the best way to do that. With a spirit-teacher helping, she should progress to the level that our Willow was at a year ago in just a week. With the power you told me she displayed at Caritas, she might go even further."

"But a spirit-teacher, Wes?" Angel asked, his question rhetorical enough that Wesley didn't respond. "That spell is dangerous, even in the hands of someone who's spent their lives learning magic. We don't have anyone here with that kind of skill. In fact, I'm the only one of all of us with any real spellcasting experience, and I know that even trying that spell might kill me."

Wesley nodded. "I know, Angel. Quite frankly, I would rather have Giles do it than anyone else, since he seems to have quite the ability where it comes to summoning spells. However, since he is unreachable, and we must act as quickly as possible, I have an alternative method. One that I think will work out for the best."

"You've hired someone to do it, haven't you?" Angel asked.

Wesley shook his head. "Not yet, I wanted to gather all the components first."

"But you have someone who will do it for us," Angel stated, Wesley nodded once, then continued to write on the piece of paper. "What is the price?"

"Two hundred thousand pounds," Wesley said without looking up.

Angel's jaw dropped. "That's half a million dollars, Wes!" He cried. "We don't have that kind of money!"

"The Initiative does," the ex-Watcher pointed out. "And they have said that they will spare no expense in eliminating the threat that our Willow poses to the world. I don't think they will deny us this."

"Are you sure? Have you asked them?" Wesley looked up from his list and quirked a sheepish smile. Angel rolled his eyes. "You haven't. Did you send Spike to ask them for the money too?"

"No, of course not. We have enough problems as it is. You're going."

"What!"

"Once we have all the ingredients for the spell, I will contact the person I have in mind, and you will request the funds from the Initiative."

"And the part in this where they don't just laugh at me is?"

"Trust me, Angel. They will give us what we need. And we need this."

Angel nodded, understanding. "I know, Wes. It's just that I really don't like having to go ask for money."

"Careful, Angel," came Faith's voice from the basement door. "Accent-boy there might threaten to can your ass."

"Faith," Angel said calmly. "How are you doing?"

"Five by five," Faith responded, her usual euphemism for 'fine' showing just how upset she was.

"Mmmmm, no, not George Michael," Willow moaned in her sleep. They stared at her for a long moment.

"Right," Faith said, breaking the silence. "Is that list ready yet, Wes. 'Cause I don't want to spend any more time with _her_ than I have to."

Wesley got up and walked over to Faith, holding the complete list out before him. "This is all the ingredients I need and where you will be able to find them. Pay for what you can, but if that becomes impossible, do what you must."

Faith gave the former Watcher a long, cold glare before snatching the paper from his hands and storming out of the hotel. Angel and Wesley stared after her for a few moments before falling into the chairs that faced Willow's couch. "Well, hasn't this been one hell of a night," Angel sighed.

"Indeed," Wesley agreed. "The good thing is that it's almost over. Sunrise should be in about two hours."

"You should get some sleep, Wes," Angel said. "I'll stay here and watch Willow. When Gunn and Fred get back from the hospital I'll fill them in on what's been happening."

"Puppy?" Willow asked slowly, obviously regaining her consciousness.

"Why does she keep calling you that?" Wesley asked.

Angel shrugged. "I don't know, and I have a feeling that I don't want to," he leaned towards the awakening vampire. "Willow, are you alright? What do you remember?"

Willow stretched languidly on the couch and turned towards the sound of Angel's voice, she hadn't opened her eyes yet. "Did I fall asleep in the cage again? No, too soft for that," her eyes slowly opened, their sparkling green taking in her surroundings. "Oh, shit. It wasn't a dream was it?" Angel shook his head, Willow groaned. "That means that you really did make me sing."

"So you remember it then?"

"Remember? Of all the horribly traumatic experiences of my existence, up to and including my own death, I will forever be haunted by that one! What the hell were you thinking, making me do that?"

"'Lorne, demon you met, he can read aura's, but only when someone sings. We needed him to find out a few things about your path. What I want to know is if you remember doing anything strange, like say casting a spell?"

"A spell? What do I look like, a witch?" Willow said disgustedly. Angel and Wesley just stared at her until she realized what she had just said. "Okay, bad question. Of course I look like a witch. That's the problem, right? But still! I do not cast spells. I never learned how, I mean when we vamped Amy she tried, but I was never a good study after I was turned. I couldn't cast a spell if my unlife depended on it!"

"You turned Amy?" Wesley asked, recognizing the name.

Willow shook her head. "No, _I_ wasn't allowed to turn anyone. 'You must be pure' the Master says. Big nasty bat-guy. All he had was rules for me, and he only let me play with puppy half as much as I deserved. You know, I'm kinda glad he got his ass dusted. Now I don't have to follow all of his 'keep Willow from having fun' rules. Well, some of them still, or else guilt city, but the rest of them I'm scot free on!"

"Be that as it may, you say that you knew a witch named Amy Madison?" Wesley asked.

Willow shrugged. "Yeah, I knew her. I wasn't allowed to do anything fun with her either. Why do you want to know?"

"Amy Madison disappeared from our world shortly before you made your first appearance here. She, uh, turned herself into a rat. Now, a few days before what we believe was the event that began our Willow's descent into darkness, Amy as a human reappeared. We know that Amy was a powerful witch in her own right, and that she had many connections to other practitioners of the dark arts that Willow herself lacked. We beleive that it might have been something that Amy did, or someone who she introduced Willow to that was what caused our Willow to become as she is."

"Really? Is Amy the lesbian lover that I was told about? 'Cause if she is I'd think that she might have dumped me, and gotten me all cranky."

"No, Amy is not the one you were told about. That girl's name is Tara Maclay."

"Oh, really? And what happened to her."

Angel and Wesley were silent for a long moment before the vampire responded. "We're not entirely sure about that one. We know she did break up with our Willow just before Amy reappeared. But two weeks later she just vanished from the face of the earth."

"Told you, break up equals cranky Willow. I mean, I wouldn't really know for sure, since the only serious relationship I have ever been in was with Xander, and he was a vampire, with more of a thing for his precious little Sire Darla than he ever had for me."

"Still, if you knew Amy, then we might have a better chance of finding out what caused our Willow to become as dark as she is," Wesley said, taking off his glasses to clean them.

"Why bother? Fuzzy me finally saw the power of the dark side. I could tell that from the first moment I saw her."

"You could?"

"Of course! I could smell it all over her. She had all this happy good energy zipping around her body, but underneath her fuzzy, happy exterior, I could see, well, me. It was like I was looking into a mirror, except for the fact that I could actually see myself. She had a lot of repressed evil in her, and all the confinement was just making it grow. I was kinda expecting her to accept my offer to turn her. Then, of course, she shot me with a tranquilizer. The bitch."

Angel looked somewhat pensive. There was something about what she was saying that was nagging at him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but the phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. He walked over to the counter and picked up the receiver. "Angel investigations, I'm sorry, but we're not open right," he stopped and listened for a moment. "Fred? Fred, slow down. Slower. Slower. Just give the phone to Gunn. Hey, Gunn, what's Fred talking about, I only caught a few distinct words. Oh. Oh! I'll be right over!" He hung up the phone and tuned back towards Willow and Wesley. "Wes, we've got to get to the hospital. Cordelia's awake!"

Wesley's eyes went wide as he soaked this in. In an instant he was rushing to get his coat. Angel Tossed him the keys to his car as the ex-Watcher dashed by. "I'll get the car running, you decide what to do with Willow," Wesley said, running full tilt out the doors.

"Willow, do you feel well enough for another trip?" Angel asked as the red-haired vampire pulled herself to her feet.

"Do I have to sing again?"

"No."

"Then let's go!"


	5. Chapter 4: Shifting Loyalties, Shifting ...

****

Queen Of Darkness

Chapter Four: Shifting Loyalties, Shifting Minds

The building bustled with activity, there was never any time for quiet in an LA hospital. Willow could smell the blood as she stepped through the large automatic door, an intoxicating scent that seemed to permeate every pore of the place. There had been so much bleeding done in the seemingly clean halls that it had left a permanent mark. Intangible to normal humans, and most demons for that matter, it jumped out to Willow's vampiric senses and wrapped her in its sweet bouquet.

She felt the hunger of her demon keenly then, the deep need for blood that went beyond any human experience. A low growl forced its way out of her, causing Angel to glance her way in concern. She waved him off, she knew how to control herself when necessary. She thrust the hunger deep down, forcing her senses to ignore the tantalizing aura of blood. The demon pulled back, content in the knowledge that she couldn't hold it off forever, and didn't want to.

She shifted the uncomfortable weight of Wesley's jacket on her shoulders. She was glad he had given it to her, she was still in the tight leather outfit she had worn since the night at the factory so she would have been very conspicuous without it. Still, it did not even come close to fitting right, and it made her back itch, someone had sprinkled it with holy water at some point.

They passed by the front desk without a word. The nurses here obviously were used to Angel and his group coming and going from the hospital. That almost made Willow worry, but she found that even with a soul she couldn't muster up much caring for the people whose company she had found herself in. The fact that they were going to see Cordelia, the girl that had taunted her mercilessly her entire life, did not help them any. She supposed that the girl might have changed in the four years that had passed since Willow had chased her through the school on her first visit to this universe. She wasn't counting on it, however. 

They reached the third floor, and the nervous, mousy woman named Fred met them and began babbling excitedly to Angel. Willow ignored her, instead searching for any sign of Faith. The vampire Slayer intrigued her more than any other person she had ever met, including the Master himself. There was something in the girl's turbulent psyche that had drawn Willow to her like a moth to a flame, and she was quite eager to find out exactly what that attraction was. She couldn't see the girl anywhere, and didn't even catch a hint of her unmistakable scent. Faith wasn't there.

Fred led them to one of the single-occupant rooms. This made Willow raise an eyebrow, with a hospital that seemed as full and busy as this one, then single rooms must be either very hard to come by or very expensive. She assumed both, and wondered what kind of money Angel had hidden away in that hotel. Inside the room was dark, the single bed illuminated only by the calm glow of the monitor screens and the light that spilled in from the doorway.

Cordelia, for her part, looked horrible. Her face was pale and drawn, with her eyes sunken deep into her skull and her once lustrous hair hanging limply about her face. She looked up as Angel stepped into the room, brushing past the silent Gunn, and kneeling at the side of her bed. A smile crept on to her face as he cupped her hand with his own, a smile that he mirrored.

"Oh, isn't that cute?" Willow whispered to Wesley as she stepped into the room herself, letting the door shut behind her.

"Is it her?" Cordelia asked, her voice scratchy from disuse. "The one my vision told you about?"

"Yes, it's her," Angel replied. "She's only been in this world since last night. She doesn't know everything yet, but we're bringing her up to speed."

"Do you think she can do it?" Croaked Cordelia.

Angel took a long look at Willow, his face dark, his eyes searching. Willow cocked her head to the side, and stared right back at him. She knew that he was judging her, taking everything he saw and everything he knew and looking to see whether it measured up to his standards. She didn't like it, not one bit. Her stare, which had started out playful, turned hard, and when Angel's eyes met hers, she made it quite clear that she was not going to be judged. They needed her, and that was that.

Angel nodded slowly, turning back towards Cordelia. "Yes," he said. "She's not ready yet, but she will be. When she is, then we can finish this once and for all. Then we can take back my son."

* * *

She reached for the knob of the large oak door, though she knew what she would find. Just as she suspected, the door had been locked. It was a solid door, so the lock was built into the knob instead of latching into the frame. This was not a problem, though, as just a simple twist with a bit of Slayer strength behind it snapped the locking mechanism and let the door swing wide for her to enter. She stepped through the portal gingerly, wary of any nasty traps that might be set up within the apartment.

She looked around, taking in her surroundings before she made another move. The apartment was cozy, well furnished, and obviously professionally decorated. Just what was expected of the woman who owned this place. As a vicious, conniving, workaholic junior partner of the Wolfram and Hart law firm, Lilah Morgan had very little time to decorate her own home.

Casually flipping a lock of dark hair out of her eyes, Faith made her way into the apartment. She knew that it was only a matter of time before Lilah came home. The broken lock had probably set off a silent alarm, and Faith was absolutely certain that the bitch had some sort of surveillance system set up that would allow her to see exactly who had broken in to her home. That suited her perfectly.

Faith began to pick up odd trinkets, playing with what looked interesting, and carelessly tossing everything else over her shoulder. It was amazing the amount of useless junk that seemed to be just sitting all over the place, some of it of no small value. Faith had never been one for useless trinkets, even the place the Mayor of Sunnydale had provided for her when she worked for him, opulent though it was, had been mostly free of stuff she would never use.

Ten minutes after she had walked through the door, the telltale clicking of a gun being cocked warned Faith that Lilah had arrived. Smiling, she picked up a blown-glass ball that looked as if it might have cost quite a bit, and began to twirl it in her hands like a baseball. "Was wonderin' how long it would take you," she said, not turning around.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Lilah sneered behind her. "What do you want, Faith? And you had better make it good, because I cancelled a very important meeting to come down here."

"Don't worry," Faith said. "I'll get to the point the moment you put away the gun away.

"Not going to happen."

Faith rolled her eyes. "Fine, but I could kill you long before you could pull that trigger on me, and you know that. Put the gun away or I put you away," there was a momentary pause before Faith's keen senses caught the noise of the gun's safety clicking on and the weapon being slipped back into it's holster. Faith turned around then, smirking at the Lawyer. "Good, now we can really talk."

"What do you want?"

"Well, I kinda want to have my childhood back, or maybe a second chance to make good with B and her crew. Heck, what I really want right now is to drive a sharp wooden implement into the heart of the Vampire version of Willow. But, as you just got a demonstration of, we don't always get what we want, now do we?"

"So Angel succeeded in bringing the Vampire from the alternate reality?"

"Yeah, even gave her soul back to her. Not that it seems to make much of a difference. Still, this isn't exactly what I came here for."

"What then? I really don't have any time to spend on pointless conversation."

"Well, I've got two things. The first is this little thing I've got to do for Wesley."

Lilah shook her head. "How many times do I have to tell you people that Wolfram and Hart will not interfere with the fight against Willow. She's as much a danger to the Senior Partners as she is to the Powers That Be. All projects involving Angel or Angel investigations have been put on hold until this situation is resolved. I don't see why he has to keep making sure of this."

"Actually, it was a direct request for you. He needs something called the 'Scroll of Vedarii' for some spell he's working on. Something that'll help the toothy little miss redhead. He thinks you have it, and he sent me to get it."

Lilah raised an eyebrow. "The Scroll of Vedarii was a gift, and it's only used for two different spells. One summons a Spirit-Teacher, the other sinks continents. Let me guess which one Wesley's after."

Faith shrugged. "I don't really care. Do you have it? 'Cause if you don't then I'm gonna have to get you to tell me who does."

Lilah shook her head. "I have it, yes. But it's at my office. I would never keep such a valuable object here."

"Cool. Let's go," Faith said, and began to move towards the door.

Lilah held up a hand to stop her. "Wait. You said there were two things you came here for. What's the second one?"

Faith gave the Lawyer a long look before answering. "I need your help," she said, growling the words out.

"Me? For what?" Lilah asked, surprised.

"I need to clear my name," she said. "Right now I'm trapped. I'm only free now because Angel got a few of his friends in the Government to give me a conditional release. I did a lot of thinking in jail, and I found that I really couldn't pay my debt by rotting in a prison cell. I need to be out there, fighting the vampires and Demons and other evils, like a Slayer should be. As long as I have that prison sentence hanging over my head, I can't do anything. It stops me from doing my duty, and ties me to that asshole of a former Watcher. I need it gone, and you can do that."

"Why should I help you?"

"Because if you do, then I will agree to work for Wolfram and Hart for five years," Lilah's eyes widened slightly, but she managed to keep her composure. "Under the conditions that I don't have to hurt or kill anyone human. Demons are free game, but I don't want my burden to get any heavier than it already is. Also, I get to patrol every night that I don't have something else specifically to do."

"So, if I help clear your name . . ." Lilah trailed off.

"Wolfram and Hart gets a pet Slayer for five years," Faith finished for her.

Lilah nodded, looking thoughtful. "I will have to take this to my superiors, but I think it's a good offer."

"Yeah, you'll get back to me on this one. I know," Faith sneered. "But nothing is gonna happen until this deal with Willow is over and done with."

"Of course," Lilah said, nodding. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small black cell phone. "When I have a decision, I will call you on this," she said handing the phone to Faith, who quickly tucked it into the pocket of her jeans. "Now, let's go get Wesley that scroll."

* * *

Willow sat on one of the uncomfortable chairs in the third-floor waiting area of the hospital. Fiddling with Wesley's jacket she couldn't help but steal a glance at the room where the rest of them were still gathered. She had waited for Angel to emerge for three whole hours now. The sun was well up and the only way to get back to the mansion was through the series of sewer tunnels, of which she knew little. It irked her that not one of them had even come out to check on her since she had gone to sit down and think. She hadn't stayed in Cordelia's room much beyond Angel's revelation that he had a son. She was still having trouble understanding how that was possible.

A son. An honest-to-God son. Something that was supposed to be impossible for a vampire had happened, and a child had been born to one who was undead. It made Willow wonder exactly what kind of world she now found herself in. Everything was turned on its head. She was evil, well the fuzzy-her was evil, and that was strange enough to deal with considering who this universes Willow had been the last time she had been here. To have to deal with the news that a vampire had made a living child was a bit overwhelming.

"Hey there red," came a very British voice from beside her, breaking off her thoughtful reverie. She turned slightly to find Spike standing beside her chair, looking at her with a measure of concern. "You're looking very lost. Care to chat about it?"

Willow made a gesture with her head that could have been a nod, or could have been a shake. She didn't give Spike much of a chance to ponder which, as she immediately changed the subject. "Where were you? Why weren't you at the mansion when I got back?"

"Actually, love, I was. Just headin' out the door as you and the poof were headin' in."

"Where did you go?" Willow said, reaching up and pulling Spike into the chair next to hers. He was a little surprised by her sudden grabbing of him, but he had been warned that the Vampire Willow was a little touchy-feely at times.

"I was on a little mission from Wesley to go talk to Riley and his fellow soldier-boys. Got back to the hotel just before sunrise, and lo and behold, the place was empty. Checked the phone, found out that the last place to call was the hospital. Put two and two together, and here I am."

"Soldier-boys? Who are they, and what do they have to do with Riley?" Willow asked, blinking slowly.

Spike was put a little off ease by Willow's strange behavior. She had acted this way when she had been introduced to him and the rest of the group, but he could tell that it was different this time. Something was definitely off with the vampire, something that made all of Spike's senses, honed by centuries of fine tuning, tingle with the danger of it. "They call themselves the Initiative, red. Mortal demon hunters, the lot of 'em. They were supposed to be disbanded years ago, but they were re-activated a little while ago, and Riley is their leader."

"Why were they re-activated," Willow purred.

Spike tried to ignore her as he answered her question. "About four months ago, our Willow walked into a secret Initiative base in the Nevada desert, killed half the people there, and sucked the mind out of a wizard named Ethan Rayne. The Initiative was put back together specifically to stop you, red."

"And you, William the Bloody? Why are you fighting me?" Willow said, her tone suddenly cold.

Spike frowned at her. This erratic behavior was really getting on his nerves. "I don't want to talk about that red. Just let me ask this: are you crazy? I mean, do you even realize how bloody erratic you're being?"

Willow suddenly drew back, her face shifting through three different sets of emotions in a split second. Spike blinked, hardly believing what he had seen. A confused look finally settled over Willow's features. "Whoa, that was creepy," she said, shaking her head as if to clear it out. "It was like I was me, but I wasn't."

Spike was almost as confused as she was, but he knew that 'Lorne had found that something else was in Willow, so he had an idea of what might be causing her wild shifts in personality. "Can't say I know what you mean, red. But I can say that it is not something I want you to do again. Look, did the poof tell you what 'Lorne said. About what was goin' on with you?" Willow shook her head. "Bloody hell. That means that I'm actually going to have to ask him. You do have a right to know what 'Lorne saw, Willow, and that Angel hasn't told you probably means that whatever he said was very important."

"Yes," Willow said, cutting him off, her tone made it clear that it was not an agreement with what he had just said.

"What do you mean, 'yes'?"

"I mean, yes. I am crazy."

Spike could do nothing but stare openmouthed. "What are you bloody talking about, red?"

"I'm answering your question. Yes, I am crazy," Spike just stared at her some more, shaking his head in disbelief. "You see, when I was turned into a vampire, the blood of the Master was too powerful for my body to handle, so it affected my brain chemistry, unbalancing it severely. I've been very schizophrenic ever since. Well, actually, I think that giving me my soul back has re-balanced me, because I haven't heard any of the voices since I woke up last night."

"I told 'em," Spike whispered to himself, forgetting for a moment that Willow could hear him clearly. "I said 'she's off her bleeding rocker', but did they believe me? Bloody poofter and his bloody pet watcher."

"William?" Willow asked cautiously. She didn't know exactly what had happened to her to make her act the way she did, but it was something about Spike. She felt as if she had known him for a long time, like he had once been her friend, even though she had never actually met him until that night. "Spike, what do you know? What is going on with me?"

"I'm not sure, red," he answered. "But you're not alone in there. Maybe we botched the soul-restoration spell, maybe you picked up a hitchhiker when you crossed worlds. Whatever it is, there's something in you, beyond your soul and beyond your Demon. It's big, it's powerful and no one has any idea what the hell it is."

Willow opened her mouth to speak, but closed it suddenly, and began to concentrate on Spike with an intensity that was almost physical. "You have a chip in your head, implanted there by the Initiative," she said, and Spike immediately recoiled. She latched on to his shoulder and held him still, the strength of her grip surprising the much older vampire. "It prevents you from harming any living human being, causing intense neurological pain for even an attempt. You have since fought along side Buffy and her friends to defeat the forces of evil, until . . . until," she trailed off, her grip loosening enough for Spike to break away from her and stand up.

"How the hell do you know that? Who told you?" He demanded, terrified and furious all at once.

She shook her head. "No one told me, Spike. I remembered it."

"How? How could you remember that? You bloody well weren't there!"

"I know, Spike. I wasn't there. But _she _was. Those weren't my memories, they were hers."

Spike's eyes went even wider. "That means . . ."

"That means that she's been in my mind," Willow said, completing his thought. "It means that she knows I'm here."


	6. Chapter 5: Sunnydale Mornings

****

Queen Of Darkness

Chapter Five: Sunnydale Mornings

She looked out from the platform above the factory floor, seeking through the chaos below. Mere moments before she had been grinning like the Cheshire Cat, standing at the Master's side, glorying in his hour of triumph. Then it had all become a swirl of dust and blood. The Slayer, bane of the undead, had somehow found out what they had been planning, and had crashed into the factory, sowing the final death on every side.

She couldn't concentrate on what was going on, her mind was clouded with confusion and the whisperings of the four voices that had haunted her since the day she died. They had been keeping quiet lately, murmuring to each other in the back of her mind, their strange language barely audible. She had liked that, assumed that it was a sign that her unstable mind was finally adjusting to its nonliving condition. She should have known better. The voices always got the quietest before something very bad happened.

She saw Xander explode in a cloud of ash, his final scream cutting through the strange whisperings and forcing her into action. She found herself on the floor of the factory, breaking human necks wherever she found them. Normally, even such a crowd of people would pose no danger to her; the Master himself had trained her in the art of death. At her best she could cut a bloody swath through a legion of cross and stake-wielding humans, draining those that got too close even as she laid waste to those that didn't. Right now, though, she was not at her best.

The voices had begun to scream at her, as if they could feel her world collapsing and were crying out against it. Their strange words ringing through her, making her movements sloppy, and distracting her senses from detecting the danger that was even now making its way to where she was. Almost unconsciously she began to mumble along with the voices, trying desperately to make some sense out of what they were telling her.

"Vamer-Ca t'shosen vre-alar," she whispered, forcing the unfamiliar sounds through her lips. "Corvedra es carathan es mordr," she absently shoved a human to the side, for some reason, speaking the strange words seemed to calm the voices. One by one they faded out, dwindling from four to three, and then to two, and then to one. She could feel her hands begin to tremble, always there had been four, and now there was only one. 

She smiled, unheeding of the loud thumping of the heartbeat coming towards her. At the last minute she looked up, her muddled senses finally notifying her mind of the danger. She stared into the beautiful green eyes of her doom, dark purpose clouding his otherwise stoic features. He was only a step away, and her mind was still working far too slowly to stop him. She knew that she would not survive the next few seconds, and though it annoyed her, she accepted it.

Everything froze, the entire universe seeming to grind to a halt, holding the very instant before her final death. She closed her eyes, feeling the moment stretch for eternity. She felt as if her entire body had been wrapped in ice, the cold tendrils of a strange magic flowing deep into her. When she opened her eyes again, she was the only thing moving in the factory. As she watched, the entire room began to darken, the light seeming to flow right out of it. In an instant that lasted forever, the factory was plunged into darkness.

It didn't last long, though, because almost immediately she noticed a new figure, glowing with a light as pure as freshly fallen snow. In this radiance she could see that she and the new figure were alone now, facing off against each other across the expanse of the dark factory floor. She stared into the light, seeing the figure within, studying the familiar lines of a body she knew all to well. Her gaze intensified as she looked upon the face of the figure in the light, and jade green eyes met dead black. 

In the blink of those eyes the world changed, and the dream became something . . . more. She stared out now for the eyes of the figure in the light, the living counterpart to the darkness that now faced her. She felt the light shining from her being, and knew that it was right, for only a being of purest light could hope to master the deepest Darkness.

The Queen of Darkness stared at the vampire that wore her features, her black eyes studying every detail. Her undead twin stared back at her, cocking her head to the side and letting a cruel smile play across her too-red lips. "Merkan t'shrak vamer-ca," the vampire whispered, the dream making the words easily audible to her human ears. "Karest onee lathranii tosh-varen Willow." The mention of her name amongst the words that were little more than gibberish made her shudder, something about the strange language struck a chord in her in a way she really did not like.

"What do you want?" She asked.

The vampire shook her head. "It's not about me, not yet. This is about you, Willow, and about what you have set in motion."

"Then this is a warning?"

The vampire's smile widened. "Yes, and no. This is part of what is happening, the reason why we are here, for this is not one of your memories."

"Our minds are becoming one?"

"No, simply beginning to mesh. We can never truly become one, not any more."

"And that is the warning? That now we can see into each other's thoughts and memories?"

The vampire shook her head once more, the motion making her shoulder-length red hair float about her face as if it were in slow motion. "Vre-la chorestul k'tranna. The warning is this, Willow: the Heavens are bright and the Hells are dark, and the Earth lies in shadow. That which can exist in all three at once is blessed, and that which is the master of all three is impervious to all who dwell within them."

She frowned. "What kind of warning is that? It sounds more like you're trying to tell me that I can't be defeated!"

A laugh rang out through the stillness of the factory, but it hadn't come from either of the opposing figures. The vampires knowing grin was cold. "That wasn't the whole warning. Remember, Queen of Darkness, some things existed before there was light and before there was darkness," and with that, the dream exploded.

* * *

Willow sat bolt upright in bed. Again. She had gone back to sleep after contacting 'Lorne, knowing that she would need her rest for what might lie ahead. She hadn't expected a dream like that to happen to her twice in the same night. She could still feel the aftereffects of the strange vision, the strange tingling which told her that what had just happened had been magic.

She looked towards the window, and noticed with some surprise exactly how light it was out. A quick glance at the clock showed her that it was nearly noon, and that the strange dream had kept her asleep far longer than she had wanted. Sliding out from under the covers, she reflexively reached out with her mind and touched her power source. Th rush of energy that accompanied that touch only served to remind her of the strange energy that the dream had been permeated with.

She showered slowly, using the warm jet of hot water to massage the aftereffects of the dream from her muscles. Absently, her left hand crept up to caress the bright violet gem that hung between her breasts. The gem responded to her touch by letting off a soft light and making a sound like the chiming of a thousand tiny bells somewhere in the distance. Willow smiled at this, comforted by the sound and warm glow.

After she had finished showering she dressed quickly and headed downstairs. She found a note pinned to the front door. Buffy had apparently not wanted to wake her after her nightmare, and had gone over to the Magic Box for some training time. Willow was a little annoyed at her friend for letting her sleep in, but couldn't really fault her for wanting to be helpful.

She stepped into the kitchen; absently yawning out the command word that magically set the various cooking implements to their predetermined work. She pulled out a plate and glass from the cupboard, setting them on the kitchen's island and pulling up a seat to await her breakfast. The juice was delivered in short order and the smell of sizzling bacon and cooking eggs nearly made her sigh in contentment.

Still, the dreams had disturbed her, and her morning could not be as perfect as she would have liked. She would have to contact several people and explain to them the new situation, and do it quickly. She wanted Buffy, Xander and Anya could be kept out of this, and would make sure that they were not called on unless absolutely necessary. First, however, there was one person that she definitely needed to see.

Her bacon and scrambled eggs floated over from the stove and slid themselves onto her plate. She picked at them for a few minutes, barely savoring their excellent flavor while she contemplated the meeting to come. It was not going to be easy, there were always far to many unknowns when dealing with the person she needed to see. It was going to take all of her concentration to simply make sense of what she would be told.

Pushing away from the island counter, Willow snapped her fingers in the air, and the remains of her half-eaten breakfast vanished in a puff of smoke. After a moment's contemplation, she decided to do one thing before she headed out. Holding one hand out, the cordless phone three rooms away and on the other end of the house snapped out of it's cradle and flew to her waiting fingers. "Amy," Willow said, and the phone dialed itself, seeking out any phone that the other Witch was near. After a few rings there was a click, followed by the unmistakable voice of Amy Madison.

"Hello?" The former rat said timidly. Willow had probably caught her away from any of her personal phones, forcing her to answer from a payphone or some such.

"Amy, I need you to do something for me," Willow said, her tone beguilingly cheery.

"Anything, my Queen!" Amy said immediately, the words coming out as little more than a squeak. She was terrified of Willow, and had been ever since she had witnessed what the red-haired Witch had done to the Warlock named Rack. Willow couldn't blame her for that.

"I need you to call for an assembly. I want all the chief demons, witches, sorcerers and whoever else you can find that wields some form of authority to be there."

"Where . . . Where do you want them to be?" Amy asked.

Willow thought for a moment. "How's work on the Cathedral going?" She asked.

There was a short pause at the other end, and Willow was guessing that it meant the work was not going well at all. "We're a little behind schedule, but the main enchantments are already up, and the construction work is almost finished, thanks to Xander's company. It should be ready by the end of the week."

"Then that's where we'll hold the assembly," Willow said. "Make sure that there are only enough seats for the really high-end guys. You know, the kind that we have to give at least a _little_ respect to. I don't want anyone who is totally under my heel to be given any sort of slack on this one, okay?"

"Yes, my Queen!" Amy said timidly. Willow rolled her eyes, she was glad that the other witch knew her place, but the constant groveling wore on her patience sometimes.

"Meetings at ten sharp. Oh, and pack your bags, Amy. After tonight you're going on a little road trip for me," Willow hung up before Amy could make a response. A snap of the wrist sent the phone hurtling back to its cradle. Willow took a steadying breath as she reached the door of the house. The upcoming assembly of her demonic and magical forces was only a minor consideration. She could have them all lapping at her feet in no time. No, the person who she needed to see now was what was worrying her, and she could only hope that this meeting would end well.

* * *

The crypt was surprisingly dark, even considering what its occupant was. Willow remembered a time when it had been bright and cheery, it had been carefully selected for the way that it was well lit with no direct sunlight ever finding its way in, a time when the previous occupant had not been an enemy. Curtains had been drawn over the windows that lined the spacious tomb, throwing the interior into a mass of shadows and darkness.

Willow closed the door carefully behind her; she didn't want any of the bright light coming from outside to disturb the crypt's occupant. She stepped deeper into the tomb, trying not to shiver at the strange and twisted world she suddenly found herself immersed in. She had faced darkness, and she had faced evil. She could stand those, she could revel in them and make them do as she wished, but what she found in this crypt was not simply evil, nor was it simply darkness. It was chaos. It was insanity.

"My toes whispered you would come," a voice said out of a corner darker than most at the other end of the crypt. The accent was English, but somewhat unidentifiable as it's owner had lived long enough to pick up more than a dozen languages, diluting the pure original. "But they couldn't decide on whether it was you or something else. I asked them what you could be if you weren't you, but they whispered the answer, and my toes are too far away from my ears for me to hear them clearly."

"Drusilla," Willow said, acknowledging the owner of the voice.

The vampiress stepped forward, pulling out of the deepest shadows and into a small patch of light which allowed Willow to see her clearly. She was dressed in a white lace dress, most likely stolen from some bridal shop, and was clutching a small doll to her chest. Drusilla had been a beautiful woman in life, and undeath had only enhanced her beauty with the knowledge gained from over a century of seducing men to their deaths. The only thing that marred her was the horrible insanity, which Angelus had inflicted upon her before turning her into what she was now. "I dreamed about you, Willow," she said, her features and tone far too innocent for one as twisted as her. "You were smiling and happy and jumping all round me like we were playing. The other children used to play that game with me too, but they would hit me with sticks and call me nasty names. You weren't hitting me, but your eyes were wrong. They lied at me and laughed at me and I couldn't make them stop," she was shaking her head, and seemed to be on the verge of tears.

Willow frowned. Obviously Drusilla had had a prophetic dream, and it had somehow featured the other Willow, but the rest of what she was saying seemed only gibberish to the powerful witch. "Tell me, Drusilla, tell me about the dream. Start at the beginning"

Drusilla pouted and hugged her doll closer, but after a moment she began to talk. "I dreamed first about daddy and my Spike. They were talking about you, but it wasn't you. I told Spike to stop acting so cross, as it was upsetting daddy, but then I saw that it wasn't daddy at all, but the horrible Angel-beast, and my Spike was being all confused by the lying electricity in his head. Then you were dancing all around me, and I kept trying to tell you that the ball was not until later, that you had come too early, but your lying eyes kept laughing at me. All crimson like fire, slashing at the air and spitting like naughty cats!" Drusilla growled to illustrate her point. 

Willow motioned for her to go on. "And then what happened?"

Drusilla shook her head. "You don't want to hear the rest, oh no. Horrible words, words that make you dead and then not dead. Words that should never be now, because they were before."

Willow didn't understand half of what Drusilla was saying, but all the same she had to know. "Tell me what you saw," she said sternly. Drusilla shook her head emphatically, and made a 'zip' gesture over her closed lips. Willow, however, was not going to take no for an answer. "Tell me!" She snarled.

Drusilla retreated back in to the shadows, but Willow could still feel her eyes staring out of the darkness. "She wants to hear the words, but she won't like them! No! No! But if she wants them, then I won't be able to keep them from her. What do I do? What do I do?" She sounded so much like a lost little girl right then, Willow knew that she was on the verge of closing up entirely.

"Look, Drusilla," she said. "Don't worry. I won't hold it against you, no matter what you say. I have to know. What. Did. You. See?"

Drusilla stepped back into the light, and their eyes met. The vampire nodded sadly, and then spoke. "Vamer-Ca t'shosen vre-alar," she said. The words smacked into Willow like a physical blow, forcing her to take a step backwards. "Corvedra es carathan es mordr. Merkan t'shrak vamer-ca. Karest onee lathranii tosh-varen."

Willow's eyes were as wide as they could go. "What?" She cried, and Drusilla shrank back.

"I told her she wouldn't like them, but she made me speak the words anyway. It's not my fault," the vampire frantically whispered to herself.

The Queen of Darkness, her eyes filling with the darkest of magic, stalked towards the undead woman. "What do they mean, Drusilla?" She demanded. 

The vampiress pulled back even further. "Miss Edith knows, but she won't say, and when she won't say then no one can know. I asked the grey man, but he said that memory does not reach what light has never touched and what darkness has never known."

Willow stopped dead in her tracks, her gaze turning inward. "What light has never touched and what darkness has never known," she repeated. "Now doesn't _that_ sound familiar. Sounds almost like 'before there was light and before there was darkness', now doesn't it," her eyes snapped back to the cowering vampiress. "Thank you Drusilla, Childe of Angelus of the Order of Aurelius. I have to go now, but I'll be back at around nine to take you to an Assembly I'm holding at my new Cathedral. Until then sit tight, play with your dolls, ramble insanely or whatever you do when I'm not here," with that, the Queen of Darkness turned and left the crypt.

Several minutes after the door shut, Drusilla pulled the doll away from her chest and looked at it somberly. "You were right," she told the bundle of cloth and porcelain. "She didn't ask about what said those nasty, nasty words. We can't tell her at all, that would be bad for all of us. I know you'll never tell her anything, but I don't think that I'll be able to keep this a secret. The moon has dropped its dust all over my head and I think that my hair will go all silver like an old woman's if it doesn't wash out. Shh, shh. Don't say anything, it will be safer that way," she clutched the doll once more to her chest. "I'm afraid for daddy and Spike, even if he is the Angel-beast and my Spike is all confused. They're right next to it and don't even know it. But mostly I'm afraid of what might happen if it finds the Key. Where would we go when there's nowhere left to go to?" And Drusilla sat down and rocked back and forth, clutching her doll and asking the same question over and over again.

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out, but I had a lot of work to do since the holidays and didn't get around to writing much. I _should_ be doing more writing soon, but as I say on my profile page, I am a SLOW writer, so don't be expecting anything too soon.


	7. Chapter 6: Rules

Additional: This chapter turned out VERY different from how I planned it. In fact, this entire story is doing that to me. Warnings about this chapter are that it gets very dark and deals in some sex-related things that are definitely not for children. This chapter is rated R, and should be treated as such.

**Queen Of Darkness**

Chapter Six: Rules

            She opened her eyes slowly, green orbs taking in her surroundings with a cold intensity. After a minute of scrutiny she closed them again and opened her mouth for a deep sigh that had nothing to do with breathing and everything to do with force of habit. "Fuck," she said. "Still here," she sat up, letting the covers fall from her body. "Still Los Angeles, still puppy's bed, still fuzzy-me's damn universe," she let out another sigh. "Still got a soul," she cocked her head to the side, listening. "Not hearing voices, that's a plus," she said, then opened her eyes and looked down at herself. "Not wearing clothes, either," she remarked. 

She could not remember stripping for bed after spike had led her back to the Hyperion, but she hadn't been in the most coherent state of mind then. She glanced at the chair which had her leather outfit sprawled over it and shuddered. She had been wearing that entirely too much lately. She flung off the covers and made her way to the closet. After searching for a while she came up with a pair of sweatpants with just enough elastic to keep them up on her thin waist and a T-shirt small enough for her. She looked down at herself, using the innate sense of self-appearance that all Vampires possessed, even if some chose to ignore it, to determine if she was suitable for going out in public. The thought brought a small smile to her lips. In life she hadn't cared one whit about what she wore or how she looked, not unless someone was teasing her about it, but in death fashion had become so much more important to her. She wondered if fuzzy-her had woken up to the world of looking good, and a nagging feeling at the back of her mind said yes.

            She headed for the door, a quick look at the clock telling her that it was 7:30; the sun had been down for nearly an hour. She wondered if everyone would be in the hotel lobby, reading their books and making their plans. She hoped so, any chance to learn more about just what her situation was would be welcomed. First, however, she would have to satisfy the gnawing ache in her veins. Her Demon needed blood and she wasn't going to deny it, not after it had been nice enough not to come out in the hospital. She only wished that she wasn't limited to the disgusting animal plasma Angel kept in his fridge.

            She made her way down the main stairway and was surprised to find the lobby empty. A brown satchel bag that she distinctly remembered not being there when she had come in earlier was the only thing to show that anyone had been through at all. A sound from the kitchen area caught her attention, notifying her that there was someone else in the building after all. She sniffed the air quietly, trying to determine if it was someone she knew. A moment later a vicious grin spread across her face, and she began to stroll towards the kitchen area. Her bare feet made no sound as she moved, and her posture was one that spoke of barely contained violence, she was in full predator mode.

            She came to the dividing wall between the lobby and the kitchen area and stretched herself out along its edge, her eyes focusing on the sole occupant of the room, who was facing away from her. For a moment her face shifted silently to its Demonic form, and she saw with the eyes of a Vampire. The woman in the kitchen had just finished pouring herself a glass of orange juice; she set the carton to the side and ran a deceptively delicate hand through dark hair as she lifted the glass to her lips and drank deeply. Willow felt small shivers run through her body with that motion, as the woman's hair was momentarily pulled away from her neck, where the Vampire could see the subtle play of a healthy pulse under the skin.

            "Take a picture, it'll last longer," the woman said, setting the glass down on the counter nearly hard enough to shatter the glass. 

            "Can't, no camera," Willow purred, sliding herself along the wall until she was fully inside the kitchen area as her face resumed its human guise. "You noticed me. You're the first to ever notice me when I snuck up on them," she said, her mental estimation of the Slayer's abilities going up a notch.

            "I don't like getting surprised," Faith said as she turned around. The look of undiluted loathing which she aimed at Willow made the Vampire's smile widen. "So you're up. Don't suppose you know where everyone else is?"

            Willow casually shook her head. "Nope. Last I knew of them they were all over at the hospital with Cordelia," she nearly hissed the name. "Spike brought me back here, but he didn't say he'd be staying."

            "So the bitch-queen finally woke up, huh," Faith said her unfriendly gaze locked on the red-haired Vampire. "That'll ease off some of the tension around here at least."

            "Hmm, not all of it though," Willow said, her grin seeming to compact itself, pulling back into a mischievous smile which lost none of its intense glee. "And sometimes tension is a good thing."

            "What the hell are you talking about?" Faith snarled, her hands gripping the edge of the counter so hard that Willow heard the wood begin to crack. "You know what? I don't care. You just don't talk to me or look at me, and we'll get along fine."

            Willow shook her head. "No. Not gonna happen Faithy."

            "Shut up," Faith said, and a piece of the counter broke off in her right hand. 

          Willow couldn't suppress a giggle at that. "Well, seems like someone's still sore from last night. What's wrong, Faith? Didn't get enough sleep? Or did I strike a nerve?"

            "I am not in the mood for your bullshit right now," Faith growled out. "So you can just take your garbage and shove it!"

            "Or what?" Willow tempted. "You'll stake me?" Her gaze dropped to the wooden shard clutched tightly in the Slayer's hand. "Don't think that's part of the plan. Apparently I'm important to the continued survival of this planet. I imagine puppy would be rather angry with you if I ended up double-dead," she looked once more into Faith's eyes, and discerned there a truth that took her by surprise. "No," she said, her smile widening only slightly. "Angel's not the one you're worried about. You don't need his approval. Who is it then?"

            "Didn't I tell you to shut up?" Faith growled. She looked at the wooden shard in her hand. She could feel the splinters digging into her skin, almost to the point of drawing blood. She ached to launch herself at the red-haired Vampire and beat the knowing smirk right off of her face, but she knew that she wouldn't, knew that she couldn't even dare. She dropped the shard, watching as it fell to the ground. When she looked up again, the Vampire Willow was barely inches from her face, green eyes staring into her own. She tried to take a step back, but the splintered counter barred her way, and all she managed to do was lean her head back from the Vampire.

            Willow just leaned in, bracing herself on the counter and all but trapping the Slayer beneath her. "Told ya you wouldn't stake me," she whispered. 

Faith paused for a moment. She had always known that Vampires didn't breathe, but it had never truly hit home with her until now. With Willow so close, she should have been able to feel the Vampire's breath, but there was nothing, not even when Willow had spoken. The reality of being right there, hearing Willow breath, _feeling Willow breath, but knowing with absolute certainty that there was no air moving in and out of her dead lungs. It was hypnotic. Faith shook off the thoughts, snarling at the red head. "Get off of me."_

            "No," Willow answered. "I like playing games, I really do. But it's no fun if you don't know the rules. Do you know the rules, Faithy?"

            "Get the fuck off of me!" Faith screamed in Willow's face. The Vampire, for her part, didn't even flinch.

            "No, I don't think you do," Willow continued, pressing herself even closer to the Slayer. Faith shoved outwards, trying to throw the Vampire off of her, but Willow had been ready for it, and she slammed Faith into the counter, knocking the breath out of the Slayer. "No, no, no, no, no," she scolded, her smile becoming a wide grin once more. "Rule number three is that the violence doesn't start until everybody's ready," she pressed herself even closer to Faith, the Slayer trying to get as far away from the Vampire as possible and succeeding not at all. Willow stared deeply into Faith's dark eyes, meeting a wall of sheer hatred in the Slayer's gaze. She broke eye contact and moved her head down so that her mouth was by Faith's right ear. "Rules are important, Faith. They provide boundaries that even creatures of chaos like you and I need. Without rules, the criminals would be helping little old ladies to cross the street while the knights in shining armor were off raping and pillaging the countryside. Without rules we start to forget who and what we are. We forget what our purpose is, and that can lead to paths from which we may never escape."

            Faith shook. She hated this creature with every fiber of her being, but for some reason she was frozen, unable to do anything more than tremble in hopeless fury. She hated Willow for what she was, for what she represented. She hated her for the way she seemed to be a living reminder of her own dark past. She hated her for somehow knowing all the right buttons to push. She hated her most of all because, deep down in Faith's tarnished soul, the words of this Vampire were striking a chord.

            "You're a rule breaker, Faith," Willow continued, her voice a whisper in Faith's ear. "You live for the thrill of traveling a road not meant for you. Even now, while striving so valiantly for the light, you ache to feel the darkness cover you again. Me, well, I'm not a rule breaker. Never was when I was alive, and I'm not now. But, still, I wonder what it would be like to leave the path once in a while. To see what I could make of myself when I'm doing everything in my power to control my own fate. Would I end up like you? Sad and alone, hating myself more than anything else and lashing out at everyone and everything around me just so that, for one violent moment, I can forget the pain," she snorted. "I don't think so. I'd probably just stake myself and be done with it. Still, there is a part of me that wants to be you. And I can tell that there's a part of you that's desperately wanting to be me," she chuckled lightly and dragged herself down Faith's body so that her chin now rested on the Slayer's shoulder.

            "Get off me," Faith breathed, still paralyzed by the rage screaming through her. She sensed a new emotion entering the mix of loathing and hatred swirling around her brain, an insistent, nagging emotion that she found extremely disturbing.

            "What say we let those parts get a good taste of what they want?" Willow hissed, slowly, ever so gently running her tongue along the Slayer's neck. Faith whimpered quietly, wishing fervently that she could do something, anything, to get out of this situation. Willow sniffed at the air, and her head came back up so that she could look into Faith's eyes again, a look of incredulous amusement on the Vampire's face. "Faith," she said in mock disbelief. "Is this actually turning you _on?"_

            "What?" Faith squeaked, finding it hard to breathe with Willow pressed so close. 

            Willow brought a hand up to Faith's face, caressing it softly while the Vampire stared intently into the Slayer's eyes. Then, without warning, the hand shot downwards, slipping between the two women and then pushing itself into Faith's pants, into her underwear. Faith gasped, her eyes bulging as Willow giggled. "You are one sick girl; do you know that, Faithy?" The Vampire asked. Faith tried to snarl a response, but was cut off when Willow's probing fingers caused her to gasp again. "You know, my parents had plenty of friends who dealt with sexual deviants, if they're still alive in this dimension, I could probably get a good reference for you."

            "Get out of me!" Faith growled, trying desperately to move, but finding herself completely unable to shift anything below her neck. 

            "Tsk, tsk," Willow said. "You didn't say the magic word," she punctuated this with a movement that left Faith panting for breath again.

            "Fuck you!" Faith snarled.

            Willow frowned at that. "Okay, so that was the magic word. But I really don't feel like stopping now. I mean, we were just beginning to _bond!" She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "I've never actually done this before," she said. "Well, at least not to someone other than myself. I wasn't allowed to do anything like this, the Master thought that once I got started, I wouldn't be able to stop, and he wanted me pure. You know what? I think he was right!" She laughed happily. "I was intending a little exchange of bodily fluids anyway, nothing fatal, mind you, just so we could get a taste of each other. But this! Oh, this is so much more interesting."_

            Faith pulled her head back, closing her eyes tightly as she fought the different sensations clouding her mind. Then, with all her strength she slammed her head into Willow's. The force of the blow sent the Vampire sprawling to the floor, the violent withdrawal making Faith go to her knees as the paralysis vanished. Faith gulped air for a few moments, trying desperately to keep her wits about her. She looked up to find Willow propped up on one elbow, grinning at her. "Don't ever touch me again," Faith said simply. Using the counter to help her along, the Slayer pulled herself to her feet and stalked out of the room, running for the stairs that would take her to her room as soon as she had left the kitchen area.

            Willow watched her go, and then held up one hand to her face. The wetness that covered it reflected the fluorescent lights of the room. "I think I like her," Willow said to no one in particular, and began to lick her hand clean.

* * *

            Faith hit the punching bag as hard as possible. The chain that held the bag to it's mount snapped from the pressure and the sand-filled, extra-durable, extra-heavy sack went flying across the room. Faith screamed in rage, rushing after the bag to pick it up and throw it to the other end of the long training room. She jumped on top of it again and began to slam her fists into it, over and over, ignoring the pain that came with the crushing force she used on the unyielding sack. 

            "Faith," a voice called out to her from the doorway.

            She stopped to look up at the tall, dark haired Vampire who was looking at her with deep concern in his eyes. "Go away, Angel," she said, suddenly feeling very weary. 

            "Faith, what happened. We get back and Willow's sitting in the kitchen, looking like the cat that ate the canary. Someone's punched a bunch of holes in the walls upstairs, and the door to your room is broken in half. Then I come down here to find you abusing the punching bag."

            "That all?" Faith said, hands falling to her sides and head drooping to her chest.

            "No," Angel said. "It's Willow she's," he paused, not sure of how to go on. "She's got your scent on her. Big time. What happened, Faith? Please tell me."

            "Why don't you ask miss savior?" Faith snarled, but there wasn't much effort behind it. "She'd probably be happy to tell you every little sordid detail."

            "I want to hear it from you, Faith. Not her. I want your side of the story before I have to do something about it," Angel walked over to where she sat on the bag and crouched in front of her. "Whatever it was, tell me. You know that you can't keep this stuff bottled inside any more. Not if you truly want to help make a difference."

            "I don't know if I want that any more," she said.

            "What are you talking about?"

            "I don't know if I can handle being the good guy any more. Angel, I thought I could do it, I know that with any other situation I could. But her! I hate her so much, Angel. I hate her so much that I want to kill her, more, I want to kill everyone. She brings out the worst side of me like it's the easiest thing in the world for her. Damn it! I never got along with our Willow, but this one is so much worse. I," she trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

            "I don't know exactly what you're going through," Angel said. "And I won't pretend to understand why you react like this to Willow. Sometimes facing a darkness like the one we harbor can make us want to lash out, to deny that what we see has a reflection within us. Maybe the evil in Willow feels too closely like the evil you have. I don't know what it is. I do know that this Willow is like nothing any of us expected her to be. 'Lorne said that there were two souls and her Demon fighting for dominance of her mind. Maybe that's what's causing all these problems. I hope so, whatever that Other is, 'Lorne made it sound like something I really don't want to get to know."

            He cut off, noticing that Faith wasn't really listening to him talk. Instead she had wrapped her arms about herself tightly, her body trembling with the sobs that she was trying unsuccessfully to quiet. He did nothing but stare for a long moment, the only time he had ever seen her close to this emotional was when she had begged him to kill her in a rainy alleyway so many years ago. He could see the glistening drops of tears as they slid from her nose to fall on the punching bag. 

            "Faith," he said, in as comforting a voice as he could manage, not sure whether to get any closer to her or not. "You can tell me. Please. What happened?"

            Faith looked up at him, her face so very different without its normal expression of casual confidence and unfeeling killer instinct. "She tried to rape me, Angel," she said. His eyes widened, but he kept quiet, waiting for her to continue. "The things she said, the things she did, the things she was going to do! And I couldn't do anything. I couldn't move a damn inch, no matter how hard I tried. I was trapped, and helpless. She was violating me and making _me feel like the monster! And the worst thing, Angel, the worst thing was that there was a part of me that liked it. A part of me that wanted more."_

            They sat in silence for several long minutes as she regained her composure. "What can I do?" He finally asked.

            She shook her head. "Nothing. We need her, that's what the Powers said. And they know what they're doing. What am I against the world, right?"

            He nodded. "You're right, we do need her. But that doesn't mean that you have to be around her any more. Spike and I will handle the training, if there needs to be any. You don't have to be any closer to her than you want to be."

            "No," Faith said firmly. "We need to know how she'll fare against a Slayer, not just other Vampires. I won't run and hide from this, Angel. I've done enough of that in my life, and it's about time I stopped. I'll help train her. Hell, I'll hold her hand through a damn amusement park if that's what it takes. We are going to save this world. I am going to help, and no damn Vampire bitch is going to get in my way."

            "Are you sure?" Angel asked. "You do not have to do this."

            Faith nodded, getting up and brushing herself off. "It's okay. I can deal," she said. "Just, could ya do me one favor?"

            "What?"

            "Could you keep Wes off of my back for a little while?"

            "Sure. If you're ready, you should get this place prepared to test Willow's combat skills. Wesley said we won't start that until after eleven, he wants to try out some sort of detection spell first, and since I'm the best spellcaster we've got right now, I've been nominated to do the honors."

            "Good luck," Faith said absently as she kicked at the fallen punching bag.

            "Thanks," Angel said as he moved towards the door. "If 'Lorne's reaction was any indication, I think I might need it," he stepped into the doorway, then looked back at the rogue Slayer. "Are you sure you're alright?"

            She looked up at him. "No," she said calmly. "But it's the best I can do. And I'm going to do it."

Author's Note: Sorry for the exceedingly long delay in getting this chapter out, no excuses from me. I _should_ be doing more writing soon, but as I say on my profile page, I am a SLOW writer, so don't be expecting anything too soon.

Also, I want opinions on how this story seems to be progressing. I no longer know how to end this sucker, though I do know what will take place up to a certain point. I need some good feedback as to what people think is happening. Good feedback, bad feedback, it's all for the best, just make sure you have a point to make and it would help if you cited specific examples. Thanks a bunch.

And an extra note: This story WILL be completed; I will not drop it for love nor money. But it might take a very long time in getting there, my apologies and gratitude to my faithful readers. I couldn't do this without you.

-Aeliar


	8. Chapter 7: The Meeting

**Queen Of Darkness**

Chapter Seven: The Meeting

            The Cathedral was massive and stunningly beautiful. Its walls rose three stories high, spires at the eight points of the structure climbing ten stories higher. It was a palace, a fortified castle, a temple and a focus for her powers, all in one. Its true purpose, however, was something that none of her minions suspected. The white walls gleamed in the moonlight, the dome at the heart of the Cathedral shimmering as it collected the magical energy of that light and fed it to the immense reservoirs of pure power that the structure possessed. 

            Willow looked on the building that she had meticulously designed, and smiled as the memories came to her. Years ago this had been the sight of another temple, of sorts, but one of learning, and not of magic. Sunnydale High School had nearly been her home away from home for four years, three of which were the most exciting, and terrifying years of her life. It had seen her at her worst, seen the ups and the downs, her triumphs and follies. It had been a place which was truly hers, where she didn't need to be anyone she didn't want to be.

            Now, she had another place that was hers. True, the Cathedral's sense of belonging was inspired because it was literally created by and for her, but it was nice to feel it anyways. There was only one other place where she had ever felt so completely at home, and that place was gone, for now at least.

            "It's singing!" Drusilla breathed, staring up at the huge structure.

            "Damn well should be," Willow said, glancing at her Vampiric companion. "Gotta give it up to Xander, when he's got the money and motivation, he really can do some damn good work. Must remember to give that boy a raise," she started walking up the path towards the massive gate in the Cathedral walls, Drusilla trailing after her, clutching a doll to her chest. "Meeting starts in ten minutes, Amy's probably ready to gnaw her own leg off with worry, and while it would be fun to watch, I still need that girl standing for a little while longer."

            "It calls to you," Drusilla said, coming up beside Willow. "It worships you."

            "Well, duh," Willow answered. "That's what I designed it to do. Not the easiest feat of magical engineering, let me tell you. And if you think it's impressive now, wait until it's finished. It will blow you away."

            "It might blow you away, too," Drusilla said quietly.

            Willow laughed. "It might. But that's got a chance of slim to none of happening."

            "I wonder why you need this," Drusilla said, sounding completely lucid.

            "I don't, it just makes things easier," Willow answered her. They reached the doors. "Now, this should be pretty cool," she said as her eyes turned to black. "The trick with turning an entire building into a dimensional warp is to make sure that your doors actually go somewhere. Like this door, for instance. Now in a normal structure, it would open on the grounds between the walls and the central dome. Since everything beyond the walls resembles something like an overenthusiastic dimensional pretzel, well this door could actually open onto the space between dimensions. Not a fun place to walk into unprepared. Now, one of the many, many spells that I had Amy's little coven do here is a nifty little number that allows anyone opening a door to choose where it goes. It works mostly on expectations, if you expect to see the grounds, you'll get the grounds, but if you expect to see the main hall, you'll go there instead. There are, of course, restrictions on this. You're limited to places within the bounds of the walls for one, and my personal will is the final decider on where you end up, for two. But since you're not listening, I won't bore you with the details," Drusilla had started humming to herself halfway through Willow's ramble. "Are you ready?"

            Drusilla nodded. "We should really go quickly. Miss Edith says that the rat has been a naughty girl, and must be punished."

            Willow tilted her head, she might have been looking sidelong at Drusilla, but their midnight color made her eyes unreadable. "Now that's interesting. Remember to stay in the back when we get in there, Drusilla. I don't want you wandering around during my little pep-talk to the masses. Okay. Here goes," she raised her right arm, pressing her palm flat against the door. "Open," she said simply, and the great doors swung back.

            Hundreds of voices gasped as a massive swirling portal suddenly appeared in the center of the gigantic domed chamber that was the main hall of the Cathedral. Willow casually stepped out of the vortex, Drusilla scurrying after. The portal flashed closed making some of the more light-sensetive demons in the hall cringe. Xander hadn't gotten around to installing the permanent seating yet, so a portion of the assembled hoard were seated on folding chairs, while the rest were left to stand where they could. They stared at her, wide-eyed, and she gave them all an encouraging smile. Finally, one of the smarter demon lords got off his chair and went to one knee. "My Queen," he intoned. Within moments the entire congregation followed his example.

            "Much better," the Queen of Darkness said, her black eyes scanning over those assembled. She focused in one particular demon, and her forehead furrowed in a slight frown. "Amy," she said, her voice carrying only to the ears of the witch she had named. "Could you come here please?" It was a request the ex-rat dared not deny.

            Amy got up and scrambled as fast as she could to the round platform on which Willow stood. She dropped to her knees in front of Willow, her head bowed. "What do you need of me, my Queen?"

            Willow sighed. "Amy, stand up and look at me," the witch did as she was told. "Do you see the big rocky, horned thing over there next to the chair he would likely be sitting on if he weren't kneeling?" Amy glanced over, and then nodded. "Now, what were my orders earlier today?"

            "That there would be a meeting of the leaders of all the forces you've gathered here," Amy answered, her voice almost pleading for Willow to accept the answer.

            "And?" Willow prompted.

            "And that only the important ones should get chairs," Amy said, and then squeaked with fear as she realized what Willow was getting at.

            "Right. Now, Amy. I'm never exactly up to date on the petty politics of any world, but as far as I know, rock boy over there is just a minion. An incredibly tough minion, to be sure, but a minion all the same. I mean, less than ten minutes after summoning him he was pledging his eternal allegiance to me and offering to make me a dagger from his own flesh. How much more utterly stupid, not to mention icky, can you get?"

            "My Queen, I, I'm sorry," Amy whimpered. "The others, they're afraid of him, so I thought."

            "Look, Amy," Willow said, smiling pleasantly. "It's not the end of the world. Yet, at least. I'm not going to turn you back into a rat, or pull out all of your magic or anything like that. You made a little mistake, nothing to get all worked up about," tears began to fall from Amy's eyes as the witch started sobbing. "Hey, don't cry," Willow said, wiping the tears from Amy's face. "It'll be okay. And I know that you'll never make the same mistake again. Did you pack your bags like I told you to?"

            Amy nodded, controlling her sobs. "Yes, my Queen. I'm all packed."

"Good, I'll talk to you about where you're going later. Now, why don't you go and sit down in rock boy's chair. Don't worry, he won't mind. I don't want to hear another sound out of you until this meeting's over. Okay? Not a single peep, now, do you understand?" Amy nodded. "Good girl, now go sit down," Amy scurried off the platform, but before she was halfway to the demon's seat Willow called out. "Oh, and Amy!" She said forming a powerful spell as the witch turned around. The Queen of Darkness released the spell, letting the energies entangle Amy in their net. "Pain," she said, and the witch collapsed to the ground in agony.

            Several of the assembled creatures shot worried looks towards the writhing witch on the ground, but none dared look up at their Queen. Amy twisted as if in seizure, her body contorting as she futilely tried to find a way to lessen the anguish, but not one sound escaped her lips.

            The Queen of Darkness raised her eyes to the many still kneeling. "Who ever said drama class isn't good for anything," she remarked to herself. "My people," she said, her voice now amplified so that it echoed throughout the chamber. "Rise now and take your place," they did as she bid them, those with seats taking them and those without simply standing and staring at her. "Hey, rock boy," she said, catching the attention of the massive demon. "Could you help Amy here to your seat, that's a nice underling," the demon obeyed her command quickly, just the way she liked it in minions. "Okay, I bet the lot of you are wondering why I've called you all here tonight. Don't bother answering, if really I wanted to know I'd rip it from your minds. Well, there are a few reasons, actually. First of all, I'm showing off the Cathedral. Isn't it nice? I mean, it's nothing right now. That feeling of immense power pressing down on you from all sides? Yeah, that's nothing compared to how this place will be when it's done. I'm kinda proud. Kudos to Vrathraknia over there who donated the blood of half her brood to mix with the cement of the walls. Another big hand to Korkarian for slaughtering all eight of his sons to provide the jewels which are placed in each of the towers. Big thanks to both of you. I could have done it without you, but it would probably have been inconvenient. Another round of applause, to be made after I've finished talking, to Amy and her coven of highly trained, very powerful witches. They've helped so much that I just can't thank them enough. Amy, you might not be able to hear me right now, what with the unbearable torment and all, but I'm proud of ya. You've really come a long way from being a rat. 

            "Okay, so we come down to the second reason for me calling you here. That would be summary executions. The following beings are to be torn to tiny, tiny pieces immediately after the meeting. And don't bother running, people, you'll never get anywhere. Okay, here goes. Grackthor the Devourer, for breaking the 'no eating people who work at my favorite coffee shop' rule. Timor the Vampire for showing his true face in public without a good excuse. Althrek the Chaos Demon, 'cause he slimed all over a path I was walking down the other day at UC Sunnydale. I still go to school there, people, please try to remember that. And finally, the Vampires John Derricks, Eric Tobens and Maggie von Buren for not fighting Buffy on patrol two nights ago. She was really miffed when she got no action, and I had to listen to her whine all the next day. Anyways, all of you are doomed so I suggest you start saying your prayers, or whatever, right now. Escape is impossible, blah, blah, and blah.

            "On to reason three. I commend all of you who helped repel the attack on our forces at the university the other night. Very good work, that. Unfortunately, that attack was only a distraction from what was really going on. The other side has summoned something terribly interesting, and it's only a matter of time before they decide to launch an all out attack on my fair city. You don't need to know the details, but I'm pretty sure that they're out of their league when it comes to controlling what they summoned, so I'm expecting it to show up here sometime in the next week. If any of you see a skanky Vampire version of me wandering around town, do not go near it. I'm not entirely sure about what its capabilities are, but the other side believes that it might be comparable to me, and you all know how dangerous that would make it. Let the Vampire do whatever it wants, up to and including ripping the guts out of each and every one of you, understand? Until I say otherwise it is under my direct protection, and if any one of you manages to injure her, I will personally take retribution on all of you. Any questions?"

            The hall was silent. The Queen of Darkness smiled. "Good. Meeting adjourned. Everybody out!" She shouted, and all those assembled, Demon, human or other rushed to the eight doorways of the main hall. Willow decided to help them along by connecting each doorway to the main gate. In a matter of a few minutes the entire hall was cleared save for Willow, Drusilla, and the silently quaking Amy. "Well, that was boring," Willow said, letting the darkness bleed out of her eyes. "A lot of nothing accomplished. I should probably just send an E-mail next time. Or maybe get a speechwriter. What do you think, Amy?" She asked, the witch stared at Willow with wide eyes, her body trembling, near exhaustion. "The meeting's over, Amy, you can talk now," Willow said. What Amy did was scream, the sound reverberating off the walls so that it sounded like twenty people wailing, and not one. Willow focused her will, and with a slight tug, unraveled the spell she had cast on Amy. The witch fell silent as the agony she had been experiencing suddenly disappeared.

            "She didn't like that," Drusilla said, sitting down at the edge of the platform.

            "That was the point, Drusilla," Willow told the Vampire. "Amy? Are you still in there, or will I have to repair your sanity again?"

            Amy gasped for breath, tears of remembered pain flowing down her face, mingling with the sweat from the effort keeping silent had cost her. "I am . . . listening . . . my Queen," she said.

            "Good. That was great, by the way. I never knew you had that much control. Or were that afraid of me. I didn't hear a single peep, did you, Drusilla?"

            The Vampire stared intently at the witch. "Her lips didn't move, but her eyes were flashing nasty curses all around."

            "Great to hear you making sense," Willow said to the Vampire, then turned back to Amy. "Can you stand up? Do you need any help?"

            "No, I am alright, my Queen," Amy said, pulling herself to her feet.

            "Bullshit. You just went through several long minutes of unimaginable torment. Alright you are not," Willow said as Amy shakily made her way to the platform. She collapsed just as she reached its edge, and Willow hopped off and crouched down next to the fallen witch. "You've served your punishment, and even did it without breaking another one of my orders. That's pretty good. I think you deserve a reward. Here, hold still," Willow's eyes went dark again as she reached out and lay her hand on Amy's head. The witch gasped as powerful magic streamed into her, energizing her body and cleansing her mind, filling her with pleasure far greater than the pain she had just experienced. It was over in a moment, but it left no residue, no longing or emptiness that Amy would have expected from such an experience. "There, how's that?"

            Amy pulled herself to one knee. "Thank you, my Queen. Thank you."

            Willow stood up, pulling Amy with her. "No problem, Amy. Now, I've got a little job for you. It involves going to LA and spying on what those wacky people at Angel Investigations are doing. Think you can handle it?" Amy nodded. "Good! Now, I'll be in contact with you once you get there, and I'll give you orders according to the situation. If necessary, I'll also feed you power, but only if absolutely necessary, okay? Alright, now, go on your way, and make sure my executions have been carried out before you leave."

            Willow watched as Amy scurried her way to a door and willed herself out of the Cathedral. "Honestly," she said to the Vampire. "I've been taking drama and public speaking classes for years now, and I still can't make a good speech. You'd think that almost taking over the world would make it so that I don't nearly throw up every time I'm in front of a crowd, but no. At least I didn't have to sing."

            "There are teeth under us," Drusilla said. "Gnashing, mean teeth. They want you, but they want _her more."_

            "Who? Amy?"

            Drusilla shook her head. "No, not the rat. The other you, the one with the lying eyes. They scream for her, but she can't hear them, not yet. Am I a princess, Willow?"

            "No, Drusilla, you are not a princess."

            "Spike used to call me his princess all the time. I would laugh and dance, and he would say I was his black princess. If you're a Queen, could you make me a princess?"

            "I'm not that type of Queen," Willow answered, sitting on the platform next to the mad Vampire. "Is it the Hellmouth you're sensing, Drusilla? It's right under this platform, you know."

            The Vampire nodded. "I hear it growling at us. Grrr, grrrr. It knows what you are planning, but it doesn't care any more. It only wants the other you. It wants her to come and join it."

            "What happens if she does?" Willow asked.

            Drusilla shrugged. "It won't say, but I know a secret it doesn't. Shhhh. Mustn't say anything or it will hear."

            "What do you know?"

            "You closed a door on it, a long time ago. It can't see the door, so it doesn't know. No one can get through that door, not even you. Not without," she trailed off.

            Willow caught on easily enough. "Not without a key, right?" Drusilla nodded. "I understand. Good work, I would never have found that out myself. Being sane and all. I'm glad I keep you around. What's say we get some ice cream?"

            Drusilla clapped her hands together, her eyes lighting up. "Oh! Can we have butterscotch! I do so love it!"

            "Really? I figured you for a bubble gum type of girl. Something way out of left field, you know?"

            Drusilla was rocking with anticipation. "Can we go to the park, too? I want to see the little children playing."

            "Too late at night for most kids, but you never know in Sunnydale, you just might get your wish. Come on now, Drusilla. Let's get you your treat," she held out a hand, which the Vampire quickly took, and together they went out into the night.

Author's note: This chapter's pretty boring, and not exactly well written either, but it does put out a lot of information that will become important later on, kinda like the filler chapter. Personally, I'm surprised at how fast I wrote this. Anyways, the next chapter takes us back to the Hyperion, and more fun with Vamp Willow. Stay tuned, and keep the feedback rolling!

-Aeliar


	9. Chapter 8: Conversation

**Queen Of Darkness**

Chapter Eight: Conversation

            "What did you find out from your conversation with Faith?" Wesley asked as Angel entered his office.

            Angel gave him a worried look as he sat down in one of the chairs across the desk. "Nothing good. Faith's in a very bad place right now, Wes. And I think Willow is the one that put her there."

            "What exactly happened?"

            "I don't want to go into details, let's just say that maybe leaving those two alone together is not a good idea."

            "I'll keep that in mind. Did they hurt each other?"

            Angel shook his head. "Not physically. All the damage we found was caused by Faith, I'm just glad she didn't decide to take it out on Willow herself."

            "Yes, well, such things are understandable, I guess," Wesley said. "Still, I will have to talk to her about the property damage."

            "I don't think that's a good idea," Angel warned.

            "And why not?"

            "Look, Wes, Faith isn't dealing too well with her situation, and a big part of the problem is the way you've been riding her since we got her out of jail. She was never good at taking orders, and the way you seem to expect her to jump at your every command, well, it's just not going to work."

            Wesley nodded, his expression unreadable. "Do you remember what she did to me, Angel?" He asked the Vampire.

            "Don't bring vengeance into this, Wes," Angel said.

            "This isn't about vengeance, this is about survival," Wesley said firmly, leaning forward in his chair. "Do you remember how she tortured me? Kept me awake and lucid, feeling every cut, every punch. I remember it, how she was able to sit for hours and gleefully hurt someone who would have helped save her. The question, Angel, is this. Would she be able to do it now?"

            Angel stared at the former watcher, his expression dark. "No," he said finally. "She couldn't. She's changed too much."

            Wesley nodded. "Far too much. She wants redemption now. She wants acceptance, and she wants to do it the good way, without resorting to her savage side. She isn't willing to take it all the way, and that is dangerous. Do you think you could kill Buffy?"

            Angel's eyes widened in shock, but he knew where this was going. "Never," he said, hanging his head.

            "One of us might have to. I don't have the strength, and neither you nor Spike are willing to harm her. That leaves either Faith or the Vampire Willow. As yet I cannot trust the Vampire with anything more than what Cordelia's vision says I must. That just leaves Faith, and if she is not willing to take it all the way, then we might as well give up now. Because if Willow decides to send a Slayer we are unable or unwilling to stop, then we are all dead men waiting for our graves," Wesley leaned back, taking off his glasses and rubbing at his eyes. "So you see the problem I am faced with."

            Angel sighed. "There has to be a better way."

            "If there is, then please tell me. I do not want to do this to Faith, but we have so little time, and there is so much to do," Wesley said, sounding very tired. 

They sat in silence for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Angel spoke. "This spell you want me to do on Willow. It's the identification spell you were talking about last night, right?" Wesley nodded. "What should I expect?"

            Wesley shrugged. "I simply found the spell while doing research a while ago. It's based on a simple truth-detection spell, but modified and made much more powerful. It should place both you and Willow into a trance where you will be able to see every aspect of her being. Most of it will likely be unrecognizable, symbology that is only important to her. The most significant facets of her personality should manifest as different versions of Willow herself. I believe that the factions fighting for control of her mind and body should show themselves to you this way."

            "What about what we're really after?"

            "Yes, the Other that 'Lorne spoke of. As yet research efforts have been completely fruitless as to what it might be. The descriptions and reactions provided by 'Lorne and the several other aura-sensetive demons the Initiative was able to track down don't correspond with any entity on record. I suggest that you be very careful when you come to it, Angel. We will be on hand to pull you out of the spell if you appear to be in distress, but we have no idea what even a casual contact will do to you."

            "Very comforting, Wes," Angel said.

            "We need to know, Angel. Whatever is in that girl, it could endanger our entire effort. If we knew what it was we would have at least a chance of controlling it. I'm sorry about asking you to do this, but you're the only one we have with the necessary power and skill."

            "I know that Wes. Hey, what about that guy you're hiring to do the Spirit-Teacher spell? Couldn't he do this instead?"

            Wesley shook his head. "I asked him, but he said something about needing to conserve his energies for the Spirit-Teacher summoning. You're the only candidate available on such short notice."

            "When's this guy going to do that anyway? I managed to weasel the money out of the Initiative, it should be here later tonight."

            "He said he would do the spell tonight. Sometime after three am."

            "That doesn't give us a lot of time."

            "We shouldn't need it. The spell you are to perform, while seeming longer for you, should only take a few minutes. Then we shall test the girl on her physical prowess, which may take us until sometime just after midnight, depending on what we find. That would leave us plenty of time to rest and recuperate before the summoning is performed."

            "Still cutting it kind of close, Wes," Angel said. "Spirit-Teachers, from what I've heard, tend to take a lot out of their students. And on top of that, Willow could be out of it for days, learning magic. Is it good to push the envelope on endurance like this?"

            "We don't have a choice, Angel. Whatever the Willow of this universe is going to do, it will happen in the next two weeks. We know this as fact. That does not give us a wide schedule to work with, so we need to use every moment we have. We wasted enough time today at the hospital, though we are all glad for Cordelia's safety, I do not intend to waste any more."

            "Alright. What now?"

            "Now we see if Fred is done drawing the ritual circle. Prepare yourself, Angel, it's time to see just what makes Willow tick."

* * *

            The ritual circle was actually three circles in a row, two smaller ones at each end and a larger one in the middle. The larger circle was filled with mystical symbols and lines, almost to the point where it seemed a solid blotch of color on the lobby floor. "Are you sure this stuff won't stain the tiles?" Angel asked.

            "It's just paint," Fred answered, getting up from drawing the last line. "Some water and a mop and it'll come right off."

            "I don't feel so good," Willow said as she curled up on the couch.

            "Angel," Gunn said, catching the Vampire's attention. "Man in a uniform at the door holding a briefcase. Says it's for you."

            "Let him in," Angel told Gunn before turning back to Willow. "What do you mean you don't feel so good? What's wrong?"

            "Something feels wrong with my head. Like it's too small. Is my head small?"

            "No, Willow, your head is fine."

            "My orders are to deliver this case to your hands, Mr. Angel," a tall, brutish looking soldier said, holding out a large metal briefcase. "I will need you to sign a form I have before leaving."

            "Oh, that's okay then," Willow said. "I think I kind of like this feeling anyway."

            "Okay, I'll sign, do you have a pen on you?" Angel said as he took the heavy case from the soldier.

            "Hey, peaches!" Spike called out as he sauntered down the stairs. "Who poked all the bloody holes in the wall?"

            "Thank you, Mr. Angel. Commander Finn will be here later tonight," the soldier said, retrieving the paper and his pen from Angel before heading back outside. 

            "Puppy, why do we have to do this spell?" Willow asked.

            "Angel, you want me to be on call for the rest of the night, 'cause I gotta say, man, I am dead tired here," Gunn said, walking carefully around the ritual circle.

            "Ask Wesley," Angel told him. "Yes, Willow, we have to do this spell. We need to know what might have come with you through the dimensions."

            "Is that the money?" Wesley asked, stepping out of his office.

            "Yeah, it just arrived."

            "Wes, do you need me around much longer?" Gunn asked.

            "One of those holes goes to my room!" Spike snarled. "You can see straight through to the bloody hallway."

            "I really don't think it's necessary," Willow said, almost too softly to be heard in the din of conversation. "But it might help you understand a few things."

            "Is Faith alright, Angel?" Fred asked.

            "It depends on what Angel feels is necessary for tonight's activities," Wesley told Gunn.

            "She's fine, Fred," Angel said as he carefully opened the case to check the contents.

            "Even a bloke like me needs his privacy, you know. It's not like I… oh look at all that pretty money," Spike said as he walked up to where everyone else was standing.

            "He told me to ask you," Gunn told Wesley.

            "I really hope she's not too angry when she comes back up here, she can be really scary sometimes," Fred rambled.

            "Then by all means get some rest," Wesley told Gunn before turning to Angel. "Have you memorized the spell yet?"

            Angel nodded, shutting the case much to Spike's disappointment. "It's pretty simple, and all in English, too. Except for those last words. What language are those in, Wes, I've never seen it before."

            "Unfortunately I can't really say. I can't get an accurate placing from only three words, but they don't look like any language I've ever seen before."

            "Okay then, I'm taking off for the night," Gunn said as he made his way upstairs.

            "Kirast eltray morea," Angel said, running the words around in his mind. "I wonder what they mean."

            "Enter the mind," Willow said, casually.

            "What?" Wesley asked, looking sharply at the red-haired Vampire. "What do you mean?"

            "Kirast eltray morea," She answered. "It means 'enter the mind', well, not exactly, but that's what comes closest."

            "And how do you know this?" Wesley pressed.

            Willow shrugged. "Don't know how. I just do. Bored now, can we do something interesting?"

            Wesley and Angel looked at each other. "I think that sooner would be better than later on that spell," Wesley said.

            "Oh yeah," Angel agreed. "Willow could you sit in that circle over there?" He asked, pointing to the smaller circle at one end of the design. 

            "Sure, whatever," she said, rolling her eyes as she got off the couch and sat cross-legged in the circle he had indicated.

            Angel sat in the circle opposite hers. "Okay, just relax, this should only take a second," Willow gave Angel a bored look and yawned theatrically. "Okay. Here goes nothing," He focused his will, gathering what magical energies he could, and began the spell. "Mind to mind, heart to heart. Let the veil be lifted, let the unseen come to light. Hecate, by your power I do call, Hypnos, by your power I beseech. Morpheus, giver of dreams, reach into the unseen thoughts and bring them to my eyes. Let every desire be known, let every thought be made real, let the one before me be the architect of their own revealing. Powers of the mind, powers of the heart, I call on you to show me the truth. Come forth! Come forth! Come forth!" 

Through this entire invoking, Angel hadn't felt a single shred of magical movement. Whatever this spell was, it obviously wasn't working. Angel paused for a moment, hoping that there would be some sort of reaction. He had done ritualized magics before, and there was always a feeling of power flowing through him that came with it. That feeling was completely absent here.

            Shrugging, he decided to finish the spell anyways and find out what went wrong later. "Kirast," with that word, the world seemed to slow and dim, the air becoming thick like water, and the light seeming to drain from everything. "Eltray," the designs of the ritual circle suddenly flared up with intense, fiery brilliance. Streaming tendrils of iridescent light wrapping themselves around himself and Willow. He felt the power now, power like he'd never handled before flowing through him like he was a sieve dipped into a raging river, almost too much for him to handle. "Morea!" He gasped out, and the world went away in a swirl of impossible color.

* * *

            Scenes whirled y him, places that held no connection to each other. He saw an empty hospital room, the bed covers twisted as if someone had been lying there only moments before. He saw the Bronze, but not like he'd ever seen it before. There were cages hanging from the ceiling, chains on the walls and blood splattered everywhere. He saw the Master's lair, a thousand candles shedding their faint light on the twisted subterranean mockery of a church. He saw a dark alleyway, one light shining down on a plain red brick wall as the sound of screaming echoed into the outer darkness.

            In a flash of light, he was swept into a new place, one he really didn't expect. He was in Willow's room in her parent's house, the bedroom not looking any different from the first time he had seen it several years ago. He blinked, waiting for the scene to change again, but this time it stayed. He heard a rapid clicking sound from behind him, and turning found Willow, sitting at her computer, typing away.

            "Okay," he said. "This is weird."

            "Hey, puppy," Willow said, turning around in her chair to look at him. She was wearing a black t-shirt with a large white flower which was beginning to wilt printed on its front. "How are ya doin'?"

            "Kind of confused," he admitted.

            "Really? Too bad," a voice said beside him, he turned to find Willow stretched sensuously on the bed, staring at him with hungry eyes. She was wearing the leather outfit she had come to this world with but had Faith's jacket on over it. "Yum," she said. "Tall, dark and sexy, almost as good as you look in chains. What do you think?" She asked, looking at something behind Angel. He turned again to find a third Willow, sitting on a chair, reading a book. She looked at him with an emotionless expression before snorting and going back to her book, which was either titled '_The Prince' or something in a language he couldn't understand._

            "What the hell?" He said, turning back to the Willow at the computer.

            She smiled at him sympathetically. "Sorry, but this is a symbolic representation of my psyche, you have to expect at least some unreconcilable imagery shifts, especially from a mind as fractured as my own."

            "Huh?" Angel said, completely unsure of what Willow had just said.

            Willow on the bed sighed. "Look, puppy, the basics are this. You are in my mind, what you're seeing isn't real, just an interpretation of what's happening with me. I'm the Demon, computer girl over there is my original Soul, and the aloof bitch with the book is my other Soul, freeloader that she is. I wouldn't bother talking to her, she's got this really annoying habit of using people's full names. There's only so many times I can stand referring to myself as 'Willow Rosenberg childe of the Master of the Order of Aurelius' before I get cranky."

            "The Demon's got a point," Willow at the computer said. "She is really annoying. I try to be nice to her, but sometimes I feel like punching myself in the head."

            "What?" Angel said. "Wait, so you just sit around in this room and, what? Talk at each other?"

            "Metaphorically," the Demon said. "The struggle for control has kind of wound down since last night."

            "I come to terms with things fast," the Soul said. "We laid down a few ground rules while I was sleeping, and we came to an agreement."

            "Which is?" Angel asked, still confused, but starting to understand.

            "Rule by consensus!" All three responded at once.

            "I only do what the three of us decide is the best way to go," the Soul said.

            "Wait, how does that work?" Angel asked.

            "Well," the Demon began. "I provide the killer instinct and good fashion sense, on top of my usual duties of animating this corpse and such. Soul one provides the moral fiber and concept of right and wrong, which is a lot looser than I remember it being. Soul two over there brings passionless, calculating, logical intellect to our little construct. In the end I get to keep a stable personality, everybody gets something, and, hey, maybe I'll even get to kill a few people in horrible, horrible ways somewhere along the road."

            The Soul frowned at the Demon. "Not without good reason! I can't just go around slaughtering people any more. Although it might be fun to kick a little ass every now and then."

            Angel stared horrified at the two Willows. "You're working _together?"_

            The Soul looked taken aback. "It seemed like the best thing to do."

            "The best thing to do?" Angel said, almost shouting. "You're letting the thing that stole your body have a say in how you act! You know what she's done! Do you feel nothing?"

            "Hey!" The Demon said, getting up from the bed and standing in between Angel and the Willow at the computer. "Don't yell at my Soul like that! Just because you and Angelus hate each other with a fiery passion doesn't mean we will. I'm actually kind of enjoying the company. And, yeah, the guilt and morals get in the way sometimes, but at least I don't deny that the Demon exists."

            "I would never spend a century punishing myself for what I've done," the Soul said, standing up herself to face Angel next to the Demon.

            "Such an act would be counterproductive," the Willow with the book said without looking up. "Creating unnecessary animosity between the Soul and Demon only leads to physical and mental decay."

            "That bitch speaks the truth!" The Demon said. "So calm down and be nice, or we're kicking you out."

            Angel looked back and forth between the Demon and the Soul, both with identical, resolved faces. "This is very disturbing," he said finally.

            The Demon shrugged. "Just how I felt at first. If it makes you feel better we spent all yesterday beating each other up trying to take control."

            "Yeah, it was this big symbolic battle," the Soul said, sitting back down at the computer. "I was crying my eyes out at every opportunity, the Demon was trying to bite everything that moved, and the other Soul was being all cold and callous."

            "Very exciting stuff," the Demon said, stretching herself back out on the bed. "But tiring as hell. I realized during a conversation with Spike that I couldn't go on being so fucking split."

            "Compromise was the only viable option," the Soul with the book said.

            "So I compromised," the Demon said. "And, hey, working! So don't knock the situation, puppy, 'cause it's the best one I could think of."

            "This is worse than the Hyperion," Angel said, rubbing his temples. "All of you share one mind, right? So could only one of you talk?"

            "Aw, is puppy all confused?" The Demon said, grinning. "Come on over here, puppy, I'll make you feel better," she patted the bed.

            "Don't tempt the puppy," the Soul said. "I'll tell you whatever you want, puppy."

            "Could you stop calling me that?"

            "No!" The three of them answered simultaneously.

            "Isn't that a little immature?"

            "Just call me the eternal sixteen year old!" The Soul chirped.

            "I don't really look sixteen, though," the Demon said.

            "Demon controlled metamorphic abilities allow for the appearance of aging in certain powerful Vampires," the Soul with the book said, turning a page.

            "That explains it," said the Soul at the computer. "So, puppy, just what is it that you want to know?"

            "There's three of you here, but I know that something else should be. Where's the Other?"

            The three Willows looked at each other, becoming perfectly silent. The Soul lifted her hand to point at the curtained sliding door that led outside. Angel looked at it, and the room seemed to go dark. A feeling of utter cold spread itself through him, flowing through his veins like blood. The curtain billowed as if in a breeze, but in this place of imagination there was no wind to be found. A whispering voice echoed into the shadows, hissing words that held no meaning to him, but were filled with power. He reached out, his hand grasping the edge of the curtain, ready to pull it back and reveal what was hiding behind.

            "Don't do that, Angel," a new voice said. A voice which was dangerous but casual, a voice that he recognized.

            "Skip?" Angel asked, letting go of the curtain and turning around to find the tall gray Demon staring down at him. "What are you doing in Willow's mind?"

            "Actually," Skip said, in his easy, conversational tone. "I'm in your mind, but since you're in Willow's, well, it gets complicated."

            "What are you doing in my mind, then? And what are all these rumors about you working for the other side?"

            "What side I work for doesn't matter in this conflict. Both the Powers That Be and the Forces of Evil are in the same boat right now, you know that. And what I'm doing in your mind is trying to stop you from making a big mistake."

            "I don't want to see what's behind the curtain?" Angel asked.

            "Absolutely not," Skip answered. "What's behind the curtain is something not meant for eyes, metaphorical in this case but eyes all the same, to behold. If you were to even catch a glimpse of it, well not even the higher powers have any clue of what would happen to you. Did you see 'Scanners'? The scene where the guy's head exploded?"

            "Yeah, great movie. You think that would happen to me?"

            "Let's just say that it's a best case scenario," Skip said, Angel gulped and took a careful step away from the door.

            "Could you at least tell me what it is?"

            Skip shook his great head. "Can't tell you what I don't know. Believe me, Angel, I want to find out just as much as you do, but the higher powers are scared of it, whatever it is, and they aren't saying any more than they absolutely need to."

            "Doesn't bode well," Angel said.

            "Not at all," Skip agreed. "I can tell you this, though, the Other is dormant. It's not in action, and as far as we know, it won't be able to wake up by itself. It will need a catalyst, and one hell of a powerful one at that."

            "What kind of catalyst?"

            "We don't know. But we are sure that it's almost impossible to get to. The higher powers say that nothing we have planned for her will be able to do it, so don't worry about teaching her magic or sending her up against her alter ego, that won't be enough to wake this thing."

            "Kind of a relief, but not a big one," Angel said. "You can't tell me anything more? Not even a rumor floating around whatever higher dimension you live in?"

            "Well," Skip said, then hesitated. "There is one thing, it's only hearsay, but some of the more intelligent super-beings have been saying that it must be connected to something that the Master was planning. But since the Master was working on his own, without help or guidance from any of the higher ups in the Forces of Evil, no one's sure of exactly what it might be."

            "Thanks Skip," Angel said. "I owe you one."

            "Nah, I'm just doin' what has to be done," Skip said, waving him off. "The higher powers can't interfere directly thanks to the Queen, so we gotta help out anyway we can," His voice became serious. "Remember, whatever she's planning it has the potential to literally make everything, the higher powers included, as if they never existed. We're rooting for you, Angel, don't let us down."

* * *

            The light faded, letting the lobby of the Hyperion fade back into view. Angel blinked, trying to clear the spots from his eyes as he stood up. He looked around at the intent faces of the people he worked with. The Vampire Willow sat calmly as he had left her, eyes closed and hands folded in her lap.

            "Well?" Wesley asked. "What did you find?"

            Angel gave Willow a long look before answering. "It's a lot more messed up in there than we thought."

            "What do you mean?"

            "Her Demon and her Souls are, uh, working together," Angel answered, still feeling a little groggy from the powerful spell.

            "Really? Fascinating, are they aligning their priorities together, or are they actually working towards the same agenda?" Wesley asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

            "Actually, they've set up a rule by consensus. At least that's what they called it."

            "How odd. You must tell me everything later. But first, what of the Other? What did you find about it?"

            Angel shook his head. "Not much. I learned that I shouldn't look at it, but Skip didn't have too many details for me."

            "Skip, like that Demon you and Cordelia met?" Fred asked, Angel nodded.

            "This Skip was in Willow's mind?" Wesley asked.

            "No, he was in my mind, sort of. Look, I don't know. All I know is that Skip saved me from possibly ending up with my head splattered all over the walls. Wes, he told me some stuff about it. It's dormant, and won't wake up without some sort of ultra-powerful catalyst that no one knows anything about. It's got the Powers scared off their mightier-than-thou asses, and it has something to do with the Master and what he was planning."

            "That old ponce?" Spike asked, unbelieving. "He was a bloody cartoon villain, that one, got himself killed by Buffy, too. What the hell could he have to do with this?"

            "He is the one that made her, Spike," Wes reminded the Vampire. "It is not beyond him to have altered her in other ways as well. It shall take a good deal of digging to find out what, exactly, the Master hoped to accomplish."

            "I'll get started on that," Fred said, and headed for the computer. "I looked up some information on the Master when we were getting ready to bring Willow here; I think I still have most of it bookmarked."

            "Good thinking, Fred," Wesley said. "Spike, go tell Faith that we're nearly ready to begin our test of Willow's abilities."

            "Right," Spike said and headed for the training room.

            "Angel, this puts a bit of a different spin on things, and there is something I need to discuss with you after we test Willow," Wesley said and Angel nodded in acceptance. "Willow, are you awake?" Wesley asked.

            The red-haired Vampire nodded. "Yup, totally, completely, fully awake."

            "Are you feeling alright?"

            "Mmm. Like it here. I feel tingly," she said, a smile coming to her lips.

            "It's the aftereffect of the magic. Do you remember Angel being in you mind?"

            She nodded. "It was like a big warm blanket being wrapped around my head. Don't remember what anyone said, though. Went by too fast for me. So, puppy, what's next?"

            "Spike, Faith and I are going to test how well you fight," Angel said.

            Willow's eyes snapped open. "Faith," she hissed, her smile widening into a grin. She sprang to her feet, looking from Wesley to Angel and back again. "So? What are waiting for? Bored now, let's go!"

Author's Note: A new chapter for all my fans! And out in record time too! I personally think that this one is much better written than the last one, but I'll let you be the judge of that. Please keep the reviews coming, I do this for feedback on my writing style. Expect the next chapter in about two weeks; I have to get a few other things done before I can continue this story. All for now, enjoy!

-Aeliar


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